


At The End Of The World

by Alyssa_85



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ? - Freeform, Character Death, Countries Using Human Names, Death, Diary/Journal, Human & Country Names Used, M/M, Sad, Supernatural - Freeform, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 63,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_85/pseuds/Alyssa_85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the year 2018 an incurable virus breaks out across the world. It spreads fast, causing world wide panic. No one knows how it started, or if it will ever end.</p><p>Shitty summary is shitty. Please read anyway if you like being sad and stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of out of characterness, for two reasons. 1. I've never written these characters before, so finding my way with their speech will take time. 2. This is obviously a situation in which we've never seen the characters in, so there's obviously going to be somewhat of a change in the characters. I will try my hardest to make them as in character as I can though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything but the storyline! All characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

_October, 3rd, 2018_

_You'd think as a country I'd be used to change. Used to life flipping upside down in the blink of an eye. But nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing in all of those years training with you and Japan could have ever prepared me for the outbreak. It happened so fast. One minute everything was fine, the next the world was filled with these lifeless beings. Literally. Human beings that lived purely to kill and eat other living beings._

_It was strange really. You always told me the training was worth the effort, you always said I'd be prepared for anything. Any attack. How wrong you were. I really wish you had been right. I wish your training had prepared me for the horror that is the world right now._

_Big brother Spain told me everything was going to be okay, that everything and everyone was going to be okay. He was wrong too. It seems a lot of people have been wrong about things when being right is really what matters. I wish big brother Spain was right, I wish everything was okay. I wish he was here. I wish someone was here._

_I lied to you last time we spoke. I told you I wasn't scared. I wish I was a better liar._

_Big brother Romano called me a few days ago, I think it was a mistake. There's no way it could have really been him. He didn't talk, but that was okay. It was nice to just pretend I was talking to him, it's been so long. I pretend to talk to you sometimes. When I'm lying in the scratchy sheets, alone and cold, I pretend you're beside me, counting sheep and smiling. It hurts more than it helps, but I can't stop myself. I guess in some sick way it's soothing. It distracts from the physical pain for a while._

_Sleeping is harder these days. The cold keeps me awake, and the few times I do get to sleep the nightmares wake me back up, shivering in the thin sheets due to the thin layer of sweat covering my body. Nights are getting really cold, and my body is getting weaker due to lack of food. I'm so hungry, I could even eat some wurst right now. Ha. Imagine that. I must really be starving._

_I've cried a lot recently. I wish you were here to tell me off for that. I can just imagine you yelling at me to stop being a baby. Although, I'm not sure you would yell at me in this situation. In fact, I think you'd pull me against you and cry along with me, whilst still promising me that we'd get through this as long as we stuck together. And then I'd nod, wipe my eyes and go about my day, all because I trusted you. I'd be able to pretend that I wasn't scared for just a little longer. Wishful thinking's a bitch though, because you're not here._

_I think that's all I can write for tonight. I don't know when I'll write again._

_I know it's futile, and maybe a little pathetic, but writing these letters to you makes me feel less alone. Less like I'm by myself in this shithole of a world. I'll try to write again soon. Maybe in some parallel universe you're reading these notes. These futile attempts to get through to you._

_Oh, and one last thing. Happy birthday. I really wish I could be with you. I tried to make you a cake, but I didn't have any eggs. Or flour. Or sugar. Or really anything. Instead I drew a cake in some mud, with candles and everything! But the wind blew it away. It was nice whilst it lasted. Oh! I also got you a present, you'll get it as soon as I see you. I love you._

Italy closed the small journal, and placed the pen beside the dirty mattress he was currently residing on. He lay back against it, pulling the journal flush to his chest, gripping it as tightly as his thin arms could manage. "Happy Birthday, my beloved." Italy wiggled slightly, getting as comfortable as was possible. "I'll see you soon, Germany. I promise."


	2. Chapter One - Germany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't often write in third person, so I'm sorry if this sounds really bad and doesn't flow. Hopefully I'll get the hang of it. Germany is so OOC I'm sorry.

"Ve, I don't want to leave," Italy whined, his arms wrapped tightly around Germany's body.

"You need to; you have your own work to do."

"But I want to stay here with Luddy!"

"You're causing a scene," Germany said, looking around at the people staring at them.

"Do you want me to leave?" Italy asked, pulling away and looking up a him.

Germany sighed, resting his hand on Italy's shoulder. "Only so you can come back sooner."

Italy's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Ja. I may not be acting like it, but I'm just as sad that you're going." Germany wrapped his arms around Italy. "The sooner you leave and complete your work, the sooner you can come back here and be with me. Okay?"

"Right!"

_Final boarding call for passenger Feliciano Vargas booked on Flight 89B to Rome. Please proceed to gate 2 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to be closed in five minutes-_

"I guess this is it for now." Germany's grip on Italy tightened.

"Germany," Italy whispered into his ear. "I'll see you soon."

They parted, and with one final look Italy ran off through the airport, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks in a quiet sob, to catch his plane. Once out of sight, Germany made his way to the window to watch the plane take off.

* * *

 

"West! You're back! The awesome me made dinner!"

"Bruder, please, not so loud."

"West? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Come on! Tell the awesome me what's bothering you!"

"Nothing is wrong." Ludwig opened the fridge pulling out two beers. "What did you make for dinner?"

Prussia pouted, taking a beer from Germany's outstretched hand. "Wurst and potatoes. What else? Now Italy's gone we can eat something more German!" He exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, I suppose." Germany sat down at the table, and poured his cold beer into a glass Prussia had placed in front of him. "Smells good."

"It's because the awesome me made it!"

"Yeah. Yeah."

Germany lay in his bed, his arm outstretched to where Italy had been over the past few months. He remembered the time he hated Italy absently climbing naked into his bed, but now he just wished he was there. He wished the empty space beside him wasn't so empty. He wished he didn't feel so lonely when he could see the bed mattress beside him. He just wanted to be able to wrap his arms protectively around the soft body of Italy and fall asleep to the sound of his light breathing.

Germany was almost asleep when Prussia burst into his room. "West! West! Wake up!" He shot up in bed.

"What?!"

"Italy's on the phone, he sounds distressed." He held the phone out to him.

"Why didn't he call me?" Germany took the phone from his brother.

"Ask him that, not the awesome me."

Ludwig glared at his brother, then put the phone up to his ear. "Italy?"

_"Oh Ludwig! It was so scary!"_

"What was?"

_"My dream!"_

Ludwig groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "You called me about a dream?"

_"It was so scary! Ve, I've never been this scared before!"_

"I find that hard to believe." Germany settled back into his covers. "It was just a dream, Feliciano. There's nothing to be scared of."

_"But!"_

"No, I can promise you that there's nothing to worry about. You're safe."

_"Are you safe though?"_

"What?"

_"Ve, is Germany safe?"_

"Ja, I'm safe." He swapped the hand he was holding the phone in. "Would you liked to talk about the dream?"

_"Not really."_

"Then why did you call, Italy?"

_"I needed to make sure Germany was okay!"_

"Well, I'm fine. Just tired. So if that's all you wanted-"

_"No!"_

"What is it now?"

_"Can you count sheep for me?"_

"Can't Romano do that?"

_"He's with brother Spain. Besides, I want you to do it, Germany!"_

Germany sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Can't be helped then. Settle down, I'll count sheep for you."

_"Ve, thank you!"_

"Right, settle down then."

_"Goodnight, Ludwig."_

"Are you ready?"

_"Yeah."_

"Okay. One sheep. Two sheep."

One hundred sheep later, Germany heard the change in Italy's breathing. "Italy?" He whispered. When he got no reply, he smiled slightly. "Good night, Feliciano." With a small smile, Germany hung up the phone and placed it on his bedside table.

"West! Are you finally done?" Prussia asked, bursting into Germany's room for the second time that night.

"Ja."

"What was wrong with Italy? Is he okay?"

"He just had a bad dream. Now, please leave."

"Aw! Why?"

"Because I need to sleep. I've already been awake for longer than I should be."

"You're lame, West."

"Get out."

* * *

 

Germany awoke to his phone vibrating on the bedside table. Cracking his eyes open slightly, he picked it up and looked at caller ID. Groaning, he clicked answer.

"Romano? Why are you calling?"

_"Is my idiot brother there?"_

"He went home yesterday, why?"

_"Then where the fuck is he?"_

"I don't know, Romano. He should be there."

_"Potato bastard, tell me where my brother is!"_

"Romano, I don't know where Feliciano is."

_"Don't call him that, you don't have the right!"_

"Go find your brother. He's not here."

 _"Whatever, bastard."_  With that Romano hung up. Germany slumped back against his pillows.

After getting dressed and making his bed, Germany made his way to the kitchen. To his surprise, Prussia was already seated at the table a glass of milk in front of him. He glanced up at Germany as he walked in.

"Morning, West. I made some coffee."

"You're up early." Germany said, pouring himself a mug of steaming coffee. "Why make coffee if you're not drinking it?"

"I had a nightmare and couldn't sleep. And, after making it I didn't fancy it."

"Fair enough." He took a large sip of his black coffee. "You had a nightmare?"

"Yeah, thanks to Italy."

"Thanks to Italy?"

"He called me, he couldn't get hold of you, and wanted to talk about his dream. It was creepy to say the least. The awesome me ended up having the same dream."

"When did he call?"

"About three, I think. He was crying and stuff."

"Huh. That's not long after I helped him get back to sleep."

"Helped him you say?" Prussia grinned, arching his eyebrows at his brother.

"Pervert. Not like that."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were thinking it."

"So what did you do?"

"I counted sheep for him. He said it's something Hungary and Austria used to do for him as a child."

"Surprisingly cute, West. Didn't know you had a sweet side."

A blush spreads across Germany's cheeks. "Shut up."

Prussia felt a pang of pride throughout his body. "Oh! I have a message for you from Italy."

"What?" He took the final sip of his coffee.

"Italy says, 'Ve, tell Germany I want to tell him all about my dream now and that I'll call him later today!'" Prussia badly mimicked Italy's voice.

"Never do that again." Germany placed his mug in the sink. "Please."

"What this?" He continued mimicking Italy's voice. "Does this make you uncomfortable, West? Does the awesome me sound like your precious Italy?"

"No. You don't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first few chapters will be really quite uneventful, and frankly boring. So, please don't let them put you off.


	3. Chapter Two - North Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many good ideas but ugh I'm finding it insanely hard to actually get them down without the flow of the story screwing up daaaamn

Italy woke with a start, sweat covering his naked body and tears streaming down his face. Another nightmare had overtaken his dreams. "Germany..." he whimpered, sitting up in his bed. Slightly disorientated from just waking Italy panicked slightly at the lack of Germany in the bed with him. Once fully awake Italy climbed out of bed and padded to his door. "Romano?" He called, walking out into the hallway. "Are you home?" When he received no reply, Italy made his way to the kitchen. There on the kitchen table sat a note, clearly in Romano's handwriting.

_Veneziano_

_Gone to the tomato bastard's house. I'll be back in the morning._  
  
_Romano._

Italy giggled quietly, then made his way back to his room. "Alone for the first time in a long time," he sighed, climbing back under his covers. "I don't like it." Feliciano glanced at the photo of him and Germany beside his bed, "Goodnight, Germany." He said, running his fingers over the other mans face.

* * *

For the second time that night, Italy woke covered in sweat and his own tears. This time was different though. Italy grabbed his phone from his bedside table and dialled Prussia's number.

Prussia answered immediately. _"Italy! What a nice surprise."_ Italy was silent for a moment in an attempt to hold back the loud sobs threatening to rip from his throat.

"Prussia," he said in a quiet voice. "Is Germany awake still?"

_"Italy? What wrong? Have you been crying?"_

"Please! Just get Germany for me!" Italy shrieked, his choked sobs drowning out Prussia's reply.

 _"Italy?"_ As soon as Italy heard Germany's voice he instantly relaxed slightly, his cries becoming just quiet snivels. 

"Oh Ludwig! It was so scary!" He cried, wiping some tears from his wet cheeks.

_"What was?"_

"My dream!"

He heard a groan from Germany, _"You called me about a dream?"_

"It was so scary! Ve, I've never been this scared before!"

 _"I find that hard to believe."_ Germany paused. _"It was just a dream, Feliciano. There's nothing to be scared of,"_ Germany continued.

"But-"

_"No, I can promise you that there's nothing to worry about. You're safe."_

Italy bit his lip. "Are you safe though?" He asked in a small voice.

_"What?"_

"Ve, is Germany safe?" Italy was panicking again at Germany's lack of reply.

_"Ja, I'm safe."_

Italy sighed in relief.

_"Would you like to talk about the dream?"_

"Not really," he replied.

_"Then why did you call, Italy?"_

"I needed to make sure Germany was okay!"

_"Well, I'm fine. Just tired. So if that's all you wanted-"_

"No!" He yelled, not wanting Germany to leave him alone again.

_"What is it now?"_

"Can you count sheep for me?"

_"Can't Romano do that?"_

"He's with big brother Spain. Besides," Italy paused. "I want you to do it, Germany."

Feliciano heard Germany sigh.

_"Can't be helped then. Settle down, I'll count sheep for you."_

"Ve, thank you!"

_"Right, settle down then."_

Italy shuffled around under his covers until he was comfy, his phone resting against the side of his face as he lay on his side waiting for Germany. "Goodnight, Ludwig."

_"Are you ready?"_

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes closing.

_"Okay. One sheep. Two sheep."_

Italy stayed awake for a while, just listening to the soft voice Germany was using as a way to put him to sleep. The voice only he heard on their quiet nights together, when it was just then wrapped up in each other out of view of prying strangers. The voice he loved so much. As he drifted off into dreamland, he whispered a faint "I love you," to the man on the other side of the phone. Then fell asleep without another word.

* * *

Italy awoke once again that night, tangled up in his duvet his phone laying discarded by his face. He wiped away some tears on his cheeks then picked up his phone. "Ve, Germany will be mad if I call him now," he said, staring down at his phone. "I'll try him anyway." Italy dialled the number of the German and held the phone up to his ear, when it went straight to voicemail, he decided Prussia might be a better bet and called him for the second time that night.

 _"Italy? Why are you calling the awesome me at this time of night?"_ He asked.

"Germany's sleeping, I couldn't get a hold of him. Ve, you weren't sleeping were you?"

 _"Sleep is for the weak!"_ Prussia shouted, making Italy pull the phone from his ear for a second.

"Germany's not awake is he?"

_"That lamo West has been asleep for hours now."_

"Oh."

_"What's wrong? You sound troubled."_

Italy swallowed the sob forming in his throat. "Ve, I just wanted someone to talk to! I'm not used to being alone."

_"Being apart from West that hard, eh?"_

"Ve, I suppose."

_"You don't sound sure."_

"It's not just being away from Luddy, there's something else bothering me." Feliciano threw his covers off and climbed out of bed.

_"Want to talk about it?"_

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep? It is pretty late."

_"I told you earlier, sleep is for the weak!"_

"It's a dream I keep having," Italy started, pulling his curtains open slightly to look out at the bright moon. "Ve, it's so scary."

_"Well, tell me about it. Maybe that'll help you."_

"Are you sure? Ve, I don't want to bother you."

_"You could never bother the awesome me!"_

"Ve, okay!" Italy smiled despite the tears forming in his eyes at the thought of his dream. "Basically, it starts off normal, like the whole world is at peace, the way I like it. Everyone's happy." He pauses, tracing the moon through his window, his flickering closed.

_"Yeah? What's so scary about that?"_

"Then everything changes!" His eyes flew open, tears now rolling down his cheeks. "People are eating each other in the street and there is death everywhere! Everywhere you turn someone is having their skin torn into by other, grotesquely pale people. Then, Germany... Germany," Italy let out a choked sob.

 _"West what?"_ Prussia asked, his voice low as if sensing something awful happened in the boys dream.

"He died! He saved my life, but couldn't get away fast enough! I had to watch as- as he was bitten into and killed!" Italy was full on sobbing now, not being able to control himself.

_"Ita? You know that's impossible. We're nations, we can't die."_

"I know, but that doesn't make it any easier! Three times I've watched him be eaten alive! Three!"

_"Italy, listen to me. It's just a dream. West is safe, you're safe. The world is safe. No one's dying."_

"Ve, I know! It's still scary though."

_"Go get some warm milk or something, to help you calm down. You're just missing West, that's all."_

"Really?"

_"Yes. Now, do you need anything else? I can go wake West up if you'd like?"_

"No, that's fine. He'd just be mad. I'll call him later. Ve, thank you for listening!"

_"Of course. Night, Italy."_

"Good night, Prussia!"

Italy kept the phone to his ear till well after the phone call had ended, his focus on something down in the street. He kept staring at something slinking around in the dark, it's movement slow, almost not moving at all. Eventually, he placed his phone in his lap as he drew his knees towards his chest, continuing to stare into the darkness below. Something was down there, he was sure of it. Italy's phone clattered to his floor as he shot up from his windowsill, big amber eyes wide and scared. Whatever it was had seen him, he just knew it. He grabbed the clothes he had stripped off the day before and bolted out of his bedroom towards the attic where he locked himself in and curled up in a dark corner, his heart racing. Just like in his dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh, this story will probably go somewhere. Hopefully.


	4. Chapter Three - South Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my headcannons is that Spain calls Romano all sorts of nicknames, so excuse the mass amount of soppy names coming from Spain.

Romano dropped his keys into the bowl by the front door as he closed it behind him. "Veneziano?" He called, wondering into the kitchen. When he found no sign of his little brother, he walked out and up to his bedroom. "Vene?" He said, walking through the open door. "Where's that goddamn brother of mine?" Romano sat down on Italy's empty bed, bored of walking around already. He sat there until something on the floor caught his eye.

"Stupid Veneziano, your phone screen is all cracked," he muttered, slipping it into his pocket before sitting back down on the bed. Romano wouldn't say he was worried about his little brother, quite the contrary, the peace and quiet was nice after a night with the Spaniard, but something was bothering him. Sure, Veneziano was an airhead, but he rarely left his phone lying around, much less with a large crack down the screen. What had made him do that?

With a sigh, Romano pulled his own phone out of his pocket and with a groan of annoyance, he dialled Germany's number.

 _"Romano, why are you calling?"_ He could hear Germany's own annoyance in his voice.

"Is my idiot brother there?"

_"He went home yesterday, why?"_

"Then where the fuck is he?" Romano still wouldn't say he was worried, not at all, but if he wasn't home and wasn't with Germany where was he this early in the morning?

_"I don't know, Romano. He should be there."_

"Potato bastard, tell me where my brother is!" He could tell his brother wasn't there, but who else could he take his frustration out on if not Germany?

_"Romano, I don't know where Feliciano is."_

"Don't call him that, you don't have the right!"

_"Go find your brother. He's not here."_

"Whatever, bastard." Romano hung up the phone and flopped backwards, his fingers clenched around the phone in his hand. "Stupid Veneziano."

* * *

Romano sat down on the sofa, his head in his hands. It had been hours and he'd still not heard a word from Feliciano. He had searched all through the house, gone down to the afternoon markets and even visited some of the local pubs in hope that Italy Veneziano had decided on some day drinking, but alas, his little brother was in none of those places. He'd called Japan, and even Poland hoping maybe he'd gone to visit some old friends. As a last resort, Romano dialled the last person he could think of.

 _"Hola, Lovi! How nice to hear from you,"_ Spain answered.

"Bastard, I was with you not even twelve hours ago."

 _"I still miss you when you're not here,"_ he sing-songed.

Romano's face flushed  a bright red. "Sh-shut up, bastard."

_"What are you calling for, mi tomate?"_

"I can't find Feliciano."

_"He's probably with Germany."_

"He's not, I've already called him."

 _"You called Germany?"_ He didn't even try to hind the evident surprise in his voice. _"Aw! My little Lovi must really care about his little brother!"_

"I said shut up!" Romano rubbed at his forehead. "I take it he's not with you then?"

_"Afraid not, mi amor."_

"Dammit," he mumbled, biting at his bottom lip.

_"Want me to come to you? I can help you look for him."_

"No, bastard, I've had enough of your face for a lifetime." Romano lied. In all honesty, he did want Spain to come to his, but dammit would he ever admit that to the undoubtedly smiling Spaniard.

_"Don't be so mean, Lovi."_

He could practically hear the pout in Spain's voice. "Do whatever you like, bastard." The Italian knew that was all Spain needed to pack a bag and get on the next flight to come and see him.

_"Okay! Adios, Lovi!"_

"Yeah, whatever." The line went dead. Romano couldn't help the small smile tugging on his lips at the thought of Spain rushing around his house to pack a bag just to come see him.

* * *

It was fairly late when the door knocked once, before being pushed open. Romano stood in the hallway, watching as Spain dropped his own keys in the bowl and shutting the door.

"Oh, Lovi, you scared me," Spain said, dropping his bag by the door and walking towards Romano with his arms outstretched. Romano fell into them, his own arms wrapping around Spain's middle as he nudged his face into his shoulder. "You're really worried about Veneziano, eh?"

"Shut up," Romano mumbled, burying his face deeper into the space where neck meets shoulder.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"That would be a great idea," Lovino pulled away from Spain, and shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out Italy's smashed phone. "If his phone wasn't right here."

"Have you looked through it? Maybe that'll give some information on where he is."

"Really? I never thought of that," Romano said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

"Is that so? Let's do it now then!"

"Are you really that thick?"

Spain pouted. "Roma thinks I'm stupid?"

Romano rolled his eyes, grabbing Spain's hand. "Yes." He pulled the Spaniard to the front room and pushed him down onto the couch. "The phone has a passcode. I can't get into it."

"Oh. Can I try?"

"What makes you think you can do it?"

"Just can I?"

"Yeah, whatever."

Spain took the phone from Lovino, who plopped down next to him. "Think about important dates in Italy's life."

"Like what?" He asked, tentatively resting his head against Spain's shoulder.

"The day you two became independent?"

"It's a four number code."

"So? 1715 or 0315."

"What?"

"March 17th, right?"

"Don't act like you don't know."

"I wasn't. I was explaining. March 17th, 1815. So, 17 for the 17th and 15 for 1815."

Romano looked up at Spain. "That was surprisingly smart, and frankly I'm pissed I didn't think of that."

Spain chuckled. "Okay, let's try this." He tried both dates, groaning when neither worked.

"What now, smart guy?"

"What other dates would be important to him?"

Romano frowned, realising he didn't really know much about his own little brother. "I don't know."

"What about the day he met Germany?"

"Why would that be so important to him? The potato bastard scared the living shit out of him, then locked him up."

"That may be so, but it was also the start of something special for him, right? The day he met Germany was the day his life changed entirely."

Romano tensed. "I suppose, but I could never tell you when that was."

"Well as I remember it, Germany broke through Italian lines, and defeated their army between the 24th of October and the 4th of November in the year 1917."

"Great, so that's only eleven dates to try."

"Well no, strictly speaking the 4th of November would be around the day Germany broke Italy out of the box, si?"

Spain typed in the numbers, and the phone unlocked.

"Okay, what the actual fuck."

"What?"

"For someone so dense, that was actually impressive. What made you try the 4th first?"

"Well," Spain started, resting his head against Romano's. "I just presumed that was the day he finally actually got to Italy, I mean, it makes sense."

"I can't fault that logic," Romano murmured. "So, what are we looking for?"

"Texts? Phone calls? Anything that might give us an idea of where your little brother is hiding."

"What if we don't find him?" Romano asked, his voice low.

Spain pressed a light kiss to his forehead. "We will. He can't be that far."

* * *

"Okay, so all we've found out is that he's been having bad dreams, and that Prussia is ultimately useless as remembering shit. Great. That's a whole lot to go on," Lovino said, pacing around the small living room.

"If Italy's been having bad dreams, where's the first place he'd go?"

"Well, Germany's probably. But we've already established that he's not there."

"What about if he got too scared to leave the house to make a break for Germany's? Surely there's somewhere here that he would hide?"

"Are you insinuating that he's been in the house all day? I've looked everywhere!"

"Have you? Every nook and cranny of the house? Italy's a small guy, he can fit in tight places."

Romano rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Fuck," he muttered, taking off out of the front room. Spain followed suit.

"Thought of somewhere?"

"The only place I haven't looked. The attic."

"Why didn't you look in the attic?"

"Because, my idiot brother is terrified of the attic, I never thought he'd go up there."

"If he is up there, doesn't that mean he really has been in all day?"

"Shut up. If he is up there I'm going to smack him one."

"Why?"

"Because, dammit, it means he's been ignoring my calling for him all fucking day."

"Oh."

Romano led Spain up several flights of dark stairs, until they were outside of the attic door. Lovino banged loudly on the door, just about ready to knock it down when he heard light whimpers come from inside.

"Veneziano, I swear to god if you don't come out of there right this fucking second I'm going to knock this goddamn door down and drag you out myself."

"Lovi, be nice," Spain whispered, pulling Romano from the door. "Ita? Are you okay in there?" The door flew open and Italy threw his arms around Spain, knocking them both back and almost down the stairs.

"Fucking hell, Vene. Have you been up here all fucking day?"

Italy nodded, still gripping Spain's shirt between his fingers.

"As much as I love your affection, if you don't let me go I'm going to pass out," Spain choked out. Italy dropped his arms, and his head.

"Why have you been up here all day?" Lovino asked, as he turned and made his way down the stairs, Spain's hand grasped tightly in his own.

"Ve, there was something outside!"

"What?"

"Last night, I had a nightmare then when I was looking out of the window something was moving!" Italy shrieked, turning to run back up the stairs.

"No you fucking don't," Romano growled, grabbing his brother's arm. "We're going to go into that fucking kitchen, Spagna is going to cook for us whilst you tell me exactly why you've been locked up in the attic all fucking day."

"Roma, calm down," Spain said, resting his and over the hand gripping Italy.

"Don't tell me what to do, you're not my boss."

"I can be if you want?" Spain winked at the now flustered Italian.

"Fuck off. Vene, go into the kitchen, we'll be there in a second."

Italy looked between the two men, his head tilted like a confused dog, then shrugged and walked off into the kitchen.

"Did you want to be alone with boss, Roma?"

"I swear to fucking God, Spagna. Don't try anything with me when my brother is right fucking there."

"You love it."

"Fucking pervert," Romano flushed a darker shade of red.

"Only for you, mi amor." Spain kissed Romano's red cheek. "Cute."

"I'm not fucking cute."

"Whatever you say."

With a final glare, Romano sauntered past Spain, wiggling his hips slightly, totally not teasing the Spaniard or anything. Spain reached out and playfully swatted his backside, causing Romano to jump slightly.

"Fucking pervert," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

"So, you're telling me you've been hiding in the attic all fucking day because of a dream?" Romano asked, pushing his empty plate away from him.

"Ve, exactly! There was something outside!"

"There was nothing outside, Vene. It was just your imagination."

Spain rested his hand on Romano's thigh. "It might of just been his imagination, but that doesn't mean it didn't scare him. You were constantly scared of the monsters in your closet as a kid."

"Get your fucking hand off of me, and stop saying bullshit."

Spain just smiled, keeping his hand right where it was.

"Ve, it wasn't just my imagination! There was something outside!" Italy said, ignoring the flustered look of his brother.

"Fucking hell, Vene. It was just your fucking imagination. You had a bad dream. Are you really so incapable of being alone for twenty four fucking hours. You're a grown fucking adult. Grow the fuck up." Romano wasn't sure what it was about this situation that had him so angry, he just knew he was. And he'd be damned if he didn't let the room know just how pissed he was.

Italy's lip wobbled slightly, tears threatening to spill over.

"Calm down, Romano. It's clear your brother is scared, and screaming at him isn't helping anything," Spain scolded, removing his hand from Romano's thigh and placing it on the table instead. Romano puffed out his cheeks in annoyance, glaring down at the hand that had been on his thigh.

"Thank you, big brother Spain!" Italy said, smiling as if he was baiting Romano to start a fight.

"You're not alone here anymore, Ita. Roma and I are here too. So, go get some rest. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Italy frowned, but nodded and stood from the table. "Lovi?"

"What?" Romano asked, glaring at his brother.

"I'm sorry for scaring you today. I should of answered when you were calling me."

"You mean you fucking heard me calling you all day?" Romano stood from his own chair so fast it tipped back and fell against the marble floor.

"Ve! I wanted to come out but I was scared."

"I'll give you something to be fucking scared about," Romano shouted, as he lunged towards his little brother, who squealed and made a break from the room. Romano didn't get far as Spain's arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close and holding him tight.

"Mi amor, calm down," he whispered into his ear, nibbling softly at the skin below. Lovino stopped his struggling and tilted his head, letting Spain's mouth work at his neck.

"Fuck." Lovino turned himself round in Spain's arms to face him. "You should of let me kill him."

"Even if that were possible, I wouldn't allow my little Lovi to take part is such horrid deeds." 

"You're lame."

"Maybe so, I'd rather be lame than in love with a murderer though."

"Dork."

"Ah, but I'm your dork."

"Damn straight you are." Lovino pressed his lips to Spain's.

"I'm going to check that Feliciano's okay. You, go settle into bed, I'll be there in a few."

"Bed? It's like ten thirty."

"I said bed, I didn't say we're going to sleep." He grinned at the Italian. "Now go."

* * *

Romano sat up is bed, the covers pooled around his waist as he scrolled through the channels on the TV in search of something to watch. It'd been well over an hour since Antonio had told him to get into bed whilst he checked on Feli. Romano fidgeted around, not being able to get comfortable knowing his pathetic little brother had all of Spain's attention. He wasn't jealous, of course not. He just wanted Spagna to only worry about him when he got scared. So no, not jealous at all. Romano was readying himself to finally go find Spain, when the man in question walked in.

"I brought some churros!" He grinned, holding the plate of cinnamon treats out at him.

"That's where you've been this entire time?"

"Yup! I thought I should treat you for letting me stay."

"Bastard, you don't have to treat me for that." Romano grabbed at the plate. "But I'll take them anyway."

"I knew you would." Spain settled down on the bed, Romano beside him nibbling on the treat in his hand. "What are you watching?"

"Nothing yet, I was waiting for you."

"How kind."

"I know. You can choose something tonight, I'm feeling generous."

"My little Lovi is such a sweetheart."

"Shut up." Lovino punched Antonio' arm playfully. "Choose something, then strip. You're wearing too much."

"You're needy tonight," Antonio joked, standing up from the bed.

"I'm not initiating anything. I just-" Lovino trailed off, his face flushing.

"You just what?"

"Nothing, bastard."

Spain stripped down to his boxers then climbed back into the bed beside Romano. "Whatever you say."

* * *

Romano was straddling Spain, Spain's mouth working over his chest, little mewls emitting from his throat, when they heard the panicked scream. Lovino shot off of Spain, and bolted towards Feliciano's room, ignoring the clear bulge in his underwear, Antonio at his heels. Lovino shoved open Feli's door. Feliciano was sat up in bed, his covers pulled over his face. The men in his doorway could hear the staggered breathing and low sobs.

"Vene?" Romano called, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"Romano?"

"Yeah, it's me." Romano sat down beside Feliciano. "Another bad dream?"

"They won't stop!" He cried, removing his duvet from his face and looking at his brother with wet, tear filled eyes. "I can't get them to stop!"

Romano shifted slightly, taking his little brother's body in his arms and rubbing his back. He felt bad for the way he'd shouted earlier that night, now realising how bad these dreams seemed to be for his little brother. Spain stood in the doorway, watching the brothers, almost scared to interrupt an unusual bout of affection.

"We'll stay here with you, okay? Surely with the tomato bastard and I here with you, you'll be fine."

"Really? You don't mind?"

Romano glanced at Spain. Sure, he wanted to finish what they'd started, but he also, for some reason, wanted Veneziano to feel safe and be able to get some sleep. Spain seemed to agree by the way he nodded his head, a sad smile on his lips.

"Really. We'll just go get some covers for us, then we'll be back."

"Okay."

Romano and Spain headed back to his room.

"You don't mind, do you?" Romano asked, pulling his covers from the bed. "Not that I really care what you think."

"Of course I don't mind. It's nice to see you be a caring brother." Spain wrapped his arms around Lovino's waist, resting his head on his shoulder. "I like this side of you."

"S-shut up, bastard." He lent into Spain's chest. "I just don't want to be kept up all night by him screaming."

Spain chuckled and pressed a kiss to Lovino's shoulder. "Okay, mi amor."

* * *

Lovino and Antonio settled down on the soft carpet of Feliciano's floor. Feli had offered to share the bed with them both, but Lovino politely, or not so in this case, declined. They could hear the soft snoring of Feliciano as they settled back in the covers, Spain's arms wrapped protectively around Romano.

"Buona notte, bastard."

"Buenas Noches, Lovi. Te amo."

"Yeah. Ti amo anch'io."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Hola - Hello (Spanish)  
> Mi tomate - My tomato (Spanish)  
> Mi amor - My love (Spanish)  
> Adios - Goodbye (Spanish)  
> Spagna - Spain (Italian)  
> Buona notte - Good night (Italian)  
> Buenas noches - Good night (Spanish)  
> Te amo - I love you (Spanish)  
> Ti amo anch'io - I love you too (Italian)
> 
> I don't know the exact dates some things take place, so it's mostly just estimates on the mass of years given on Wiki. For instance, the Italian Unification was 1815 to 1871, so I just chose the first year. If you know the correct dates it should be, feel free to correct me.
> 
> Reading this back and damn, Spain and Romano are super lovey dovey in this, sorrynotsorry.


	5. Chapter Four - North Italy

_"Romano! No! Come back here!" Spain yelled, taking off in a run after his retreating boyfriend._

_"I need to find him!"_

_Spain finally caught up to Romano and grabbed his wrist, pulling him into his chest. "Lovi, please," he begged, tightening his arms around the struggling Italian. "You're going to get yourself killed. He's gone. All we can do is help Feliciano through this."_

_"We can at least find his body. We can't just let it end like this, Vene needs closure."_

_"Even if we can find him again, who's to say there's anything left to find?"_

_"Don't say that. He's strong. Stronger than any of us. If we lose him, how the fuck do we have a chance?"_

_Spain pushed his own tears back at the sound of a sob from the small man in his arms. "We need to get back to your brother."_

_"But-"_

_"It's too late. There's nothing we can do. Let's go, Lovi."_

_"Let me go, I have to do this."_

_In Antonio's moment of shock at his persistence, Romano wiggled out from Spain's arms, once again taking off, his feet pounding against the concrete, Spain following as close as he could get._

_They ran, one chasing the other, until Spain tripped on a large root, falling to the ground his knees skidding painfully. "Fuck!"_

_"Spain!" Romano yelled, turning on his heel, his eyes wide. "Fucking move! Quick!"_

_Antonio turned his head, coming face-to-face with the exact thing they were fighting to avoid._

_"Lovi, run!" Spain shouted, just as a white shot of pain ran though his body as the monster bit into his shoulder._

_"No!" Lovino cried, falling to his own knees, tears streaming down his face as he watched Antonio go through the same fate Ludwig had just hours before._

"No!" Italy screamed as he bolted up from bed. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving.

Romano ran into the room minutes later, a mixing bowl in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. "What?!"

"Just a bad dream," he murmured.

Antonio trailed into the room behind Romano, still in his long-sleeved pyjamas. "Everything okay?"

Italy looked up at him, eyes filled with tears. "It is now." He sighed.

"You had another one?" Romano asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I thought they'd stopped," Spain added, leaning against the wall.

"They had. This was the first in a while."

"Why don't you get dressed, then come help me in the kitchen? Take your mind off things."

Italy nodded, getting out of his bed to pull on some clothes, completely shameless. Both Spain and Romano averted their eyes as the younger man bent down to retrieve his clothes from the floor.

"Lovi? Mind if I use your shower?" Spain asked.

"You don't have to ask, bastard. You've been staying here for the past three weeks, you know you don't need to ask for that."

"Right." He grinned then left the room, heading back to Lovino's.

* * *

It was a normal Wednesday evening when it started. Lovino was watching the news, his head resting in Spain's lap whilst the Spaniard played with his hair. Feliciano was sat on the small arm chair, drifting in and out of consciousness. Everything was peaceful. Lovino lent into Antonio's touch, practically purring like a cat, when the news caught his full attention.

"What the fuck?" He almost yelled, sitting up. Italy's eyes shot open, and even Antonio was startled by his sudden outburst.

"Did I do something wrong? Did I accidentally touch your curl?"

"No, shut up for a second." Romano grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

_"I'm reporting here from Rome. Where at half five this evening we had multiple reports of a people ripping limbs off  of passerbys and then proceeding to eat them. We don't have the current whereabouts of the anyone involved, so I suggest keeping inside and locking all doors. They're likely dangerous."_

The rest of the report was drowned out by a heartbreaking sob from Italy, who was now curled up in a ball, shaking. Lovino glanced up at Spain, who was just staring blankly at the TV screen, a grimace playing on his lips. Lovino knew exactly what they were both thinking.

"Feliciano, calm down," Lovino finally broke the deathly silence over the room.

"Calm down? How can I calm down?" He choked out, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs.

 _"This just in. One of the victims, presumed to be dead, has just woken up." The lady on the screen pressed against her earpiece, before pulling it out and throwing it to the floor. "I'm not supposed to report this, but the people need to know. Several of the victims have awoken, after being announced dead and are now out, roaming the streets. I believe them to be-"_ she was cut off, the camera dropping to the floor as a loud scream echoed through the speakers on the TV. Lovino and Spain watched in silence as the news reporter dropped to the floor, blood pooling around her as something, no, someone, bit into her skin, flaying it off bit by bit.

Spain's arms snaked around Lovino's waist, pulling him into his lap. For once, Lovino didn't attempt to wiggle his way off. He quietly wrapped his arms around Spain's neck, listening to the quiet murmur from the TV and his brother's sobs. If one thing's for sure, Italy's dreams might not have been just dreams.

* * *

Soon as Italy had calmed enough for his heart to stop feeling like it was going to brutally rip from his chest, and his sobs had subsided, he pushed himself to his feet. Romano was still wrapped up in Spain, and Spain had fallen asleep, tear tracks down his cheeks. Italy's lips wobbled, as he made his way from the quiet living room and up to his room. He closed the curtains, not even glancing out into the dark streets below. When in the comfort of his bed, Italy dialled Germany's number.

 _"Hello?"_ A deep voice answered.

"Germany? Is that you?"

_"Italy? Of course it's me, who else would be answering my phone?"_

"It didn't sound like you."

_"What's wrong, Italy?"_

"Huh? What makes you think something is wrong?"

_"Your voice sounds strained."_

Italy fake laughed, trying to sound happier. "Everything's fine!"

_"You know I can tell you're lying. What's happened? Another argument with Romano?"_

"It doesn't matter. Don't worry yourself with such tiny matters."

_"Worrying about your feelings isn't tiny matters. Feliciano, tell me what's wrong. I can't help if I don't know."_

"Germany doesn't need to worry about me."

_"If you don't want to tell me, I'll just hang up."_

"No!" Italy took a deep breath. "Please don't go."

_"Italy, it's late."_

"I know, but please don't leave me."

Italy heard the large intake of breath. _"I'm not going anywhere."_

"I know it's late, and you're probably already in bed, but can we Skype? I want to see your face."

* * *

Italy wasn't sure if it was because of the sadness in his voice, or the fact Germany missed him, that made him agree to a Skype call this late at night. He didn't have long to figure it out before Germany's face was across his screen, a stubborn frown playing on his lips. Italy thought he could see faint tears in Germany's eyes, but chose to ignore them.

"Germany!" Feliciano grinned, hugging a pillow to his chest.

"Hello, Italy."

"I'm sorry to keep you up."

"No you're not. If you were, you wouldn't do it."

"Is Germany angry at me?"

"No, I'm not angry at you. Not this time."

"What's different?"

"I saw the news." Germany took a breath. "You must be scared."

"Was Germany crying for me?" Italy joked.

Ludwig wiped at his eyes, obviously not noticing the tears. "I suppose your boss has called?"

"Actually, no. I wish I didn't know what you were talking about." Feliciano tightened his grip on the pillow. "Brother was watching the news."

"I'm so sorry."

"What for? It's not your fault."

"I can't be there to protect you."

Italy smiled sadly at Germany. "Germany wants to protect me?"

"I always want to protect you. You're such an airhead, I can't trust you not to get yourself killed."

"I'll be fine. As long as Germany's with me in my heart, I know I'll be fine."

Italy giggled at the blush spreading across Germany's cheeks.

"You should go to sleep. I'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, Germany."

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying up a little longer."

"No, it's fine. I just wanted to see your face, I've done that now. So, get some sleep."

"Goodnight, Feliciano."

"Ti amo." Italy was grinning widely.

"Ja, Ich liebe dich auch, Feliciano." Germany said, his blush deepening.

Italy ended the call, the small smile Germany was holding burning into his brain. He closed his laptop lid, and pushed it onto his bedside table, then left his room to go back to the front room.

Spain was still asleep on the sofa, a red blanket covering him. Romano was sat beside him, his fingers interlocked with Antonio's.

"Romano?"

Romano jumped, his head turning so fast Italy was surprised he didn't pull a muscle in it. "Where were you?"

"I went to Skype Germany." Italy sat back down on the armchair.

"What did you call the potato bastard for?"

"I needed to see him. After everything."

"After everything?"

"The news. You can't deny the fact it sounds awfully familiar."

"Unfortunately, I can't deny that."

"What's going to happen?"

"Nothing. They're going to find every victim, and attacker, and put an end to this. Come tomorrow, Italy will be at peace once again."

Feliciano sighed. "I hope you're right, Romano."

"I'm always right, bastard." Romano smiled at Veneziano. "I promise you that."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm going to bed."

"Okay. Night."

"Night, brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ja - Yeah/yes (German)  
> Ich liebe dich auch - I love you too (German)  
> Ti amo - I love you (Italian)  
> The news report is terrible oh man. I don't have any idea how they would actually announce this tbh.


	6. Chapter Five - South Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Romeo - Seborga (The only name I've seen used for him)
> 
> Italy&Romano's 'boss' is fictional, no relation to the actual leader of Italy.

A few days had passed since the first news of flesh eating humans had aired, with few reports since, things were calming down in the Vargas household. Italy has stopped crying all the time, Romano's heart had stopped pounding heavily in his chest every time the door knocked, and Spain had returned to his happy-go-lucky self. Things were looking up.

Spain was sitting on the sofa, Romano's head on his shoulder as he napped, when the door knocked loudly. Antonio shifted so he could put Romano's head on the arm of the chair, before standing up and walking to the door. He looked through the peephole, surprised by who he saw. Spain opened the door, a smile on his lips.

"Hello, Germany."

"Hello. Is Italy around?"

"He's taking a siesta; you can go on up to his room."

"Thank you." Germany walked past Spain, and towards the stairs.

"You know," Spain started, closing the door. "I was wondering when you'd finally show up here."

Germany paused for a second, before heading up the stairs.

"What's the potato bastard doing here?" Romano asked, walking out of the front room, stretching his back.

"Surely you must have been expecting him. Coming here to be your brother's knight in shining armour."

"That's disgusting."

"On the contrary, young Romano. It's completely romantic."

"What do you know about romance?" Romano scoffed.

"I am the nation of passion; I know all there is to know about romance."

"Yeah, alright."

"You can't tell me I don't romance you, Lovi. I shower you with romance."

"That's what that is? You learn something new every day."

"You're mean, Lovi." Spain pouted, his bottom lip gutted out as far as it could go.

Lovino tapped Spain's bottom lip. "Stop that. You look stupid." Lie. Romano couldn't help but inwardly coo at the cuteness that was Spain pouting. But he'd never say that. Not out loud.

Spain broke out into a large smile, not being able to play sad any longer. "What would Roma like for dinner?"

"Vene said he's making pasta. We're sick of your Spanish food."

"But I've been cooking Italian food too."

"Shut up, bastard. Vene's cooking tonight."

"Okay!"

"I'm going to check on my brother, that potato bastard is probably doing perverted things to him as he sleeps."

"I don't think Germany's that sort of person. He gets flustered if someone even mentions something sexual."

"Again, shut up. I'm going."

"I'll be in the front room."

Romano watched Spain walk into the front room before he headed up the stairs and towards his brother's room. He pushed the door open, ready to scream at the German, but found himself actually smiling at the picture in front of him. Not that he'd ever let anyone see that. Germany was laying with his back to the door, Italy curled into his chest, hands clasping at Germany's shirt and his arm draped over Italy. Romano couldn't tell if Germany was asleep or not, so he backed out of the room.

"I take it from the lack of shouting Germany wasn't being creepy with Veneziano?" Spain asked as Romano flopped down onto the sofa beside him.

"As much as I hate to admit it, no."

"Told you so."

Lovino punched Antonio's arm playfully. "Do we look cute when we cuddle?"

Antonio choked on the water in his mouth at the unusual question. He glanced at the Italian beside him, Romano was flushed. "We look adorable. Why do you ask?"

"The potato bastard and Vene were cuddling. I needed confirmation that we look cuter than them."

"How out of character of you."

"I'd say wanting to actually be better than Veneziano at something is pretty in character for me."

"You're better at a lot of things."

"Yeah, whatever."

Spain turned so he was facing Romano, an out of character serious look on his face. "I thought you were over this, Lovi?" He touched their foreheads together. "You need to stop comparing yourself to him so much. In so many ways you're a thousand times better than your brother."

Romano pushed Spain away, got to his feet and stormed out of the room.

"Stupid, Spaniard!" He shouted, slamming the door to his bedroom.

"Romano? What did I do?" Spain asked, knocking on the door.

"Go away!"

Antonio sighed, sitting down against the door. "I'll be out here when you calm down."

* * *

 The four friends sat at the table, a strained silence hanging over them. Italy's head rested on Germany's shoulder, Romano and Spain's hands were interlocked. It was late, and the four nations had been sat in the uncomfortable silence for a little over an hour. After Romano had calmed, he and Spain settled down in the living room watching the news when it had been announced. Several more people had miraculously come back to life, and had taken victims of their own. It was like they were living in a horror movie. Germany spent what seemed like hours trying to calm the Northern part of Italy, whilst the Southern part just sat staring at the screen.

"What are we going to do?" Germany asked, breaking the silence.

"What can we do but sit and wait to die and come back as whatever those things are?" Romano scoffed, his hand momentarily tightening in Spain's grasp.

"Don't say shit like that, Lovi."

"Why? It's what we're all thinking."

"I wasn't. I was thinking how we're all going to be fine because we've got each other. All we need to do is get out of Italy," Spain said, giving everyone a fake smile, that only Romano could see through.

"We could go to Germany," Italy piped up, his head not moving from its place on Germany's shoulder.

"Why would we want to go there?"

"Because Germany's nice!" Italy argued.

"Land of the potato bastards? Doesn't sound nice to me. We should go to Spain."

"No, Germany."

"Spain."

"Germany."

"Spain."

"Germany."

Germany slammed his hand down on the table. "Stop arguing. It doesn't even matter where we go. Stay. Leave. We'll survive either way."

"What makes you so sure?" Spain asked.

"We're nations. Physically, we cannot die. Besides, this isn't going to go on for long. They'll find a cure, they'll put a stop to this."

"They?"

"Scientists. It's the 21st century, they won't let this get too spread."

"Germany's so smart!" Italy grinned.

"The potato bastard isn't so smart. I'm going to bed." Romano pushed back his chair, then headed out of the room, Spain following behind.

* * *

 Two weeks had passed and nothing was resolved, the virus, as the news was calling it now, had spread fast. People left right and centre had been falling down dead just to come back, a grey skinned, almost human being. No cure had been created, and no way of actually killing the things had been discovered. As the days ticked by, the virus spread more. Ten people became thirty. Thirty became seventy. It had spread cross country. No one knew how, or where the virus developed from, all the people knew was it was spreading and it was spreading fast.

"I fucking told you Germany wasn't so smart!" Romano yelled, pacing back and forth in the kitchen.

"Ve, it was an honest mistake," Italy argued.

"Honest mistake? How the fuck was this an honest mistake? We could off in Spain, safe, if he hadn't stuck his stupid potato nose in things."

"Safe?" Italy scoffed. "It's spreading cross-country. Do you really think it's not going to spread to Spain, and then everywhere else?"

"Shut up. Shut the fuck up, Veneziano."

"Why? Because you know I'm right. We wouldn't be safe anywhere."

"Yes we would!"

"You think Italy is the only country in a panic? Newsflash, Romano, it's not. We need to take a step back and think about our next move."

"Who are you and what have you done with my little brother?"

"I don't have the time to be the airhead everyone calls me."

Romano stopped his pacing. "Speaking of little brothers, have you heard from Romeo?"

"He emailed a few days ago. He's not in Italy, he's staying with Sealand and his family right now. I told him not to come back."

"Good call, I worry about that little brother of ours. He's reckless."

Italy nodded in knowing. "Where's big brother Spain and Germany?"

"You know; I wish you'd stop calling him that."

"Germany? But that's his name? I suppose I could call him Luddy more."

"Not Germany, you fucking idiot. Spain. I wish you'd stop calling him big brother. I sleep with that man. It's creepy."

"We all know he's not really my brother though. I don't see the issue."

Romano rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't."

"You didn't answer my question."

"They've gone to try and get some supplies. Just in case."

Italy tilted his head. "Just in case?"

"Just in case things get too bad."

"Oh."

* * *

 Romano and Italy jumped at the sound of the door slamming; and ran out from the kitchen. Spain and Germany were leaning against the door, chests heaving as they regained their breath.

"Luddy? Why are you out of breath?"

"It'll hell out there. People are panicking."

"It's not a surprise," Romano said, taking some bags from Spain. "With what's going on people are bound to panic."

"That's true," Spain agreed.

The four nations made their way back to the kitchen. They stayed in silence as they hastily unpacked the bags onto the side, and then putting things where they go, leaving some aside for a backpack in case they needed to make a quick exit from the house. Once that was done, they settled in the living room, the silence staying heavy over their heads. No one really wanting to break the silence, but none quite enjoying it. Romano put the TV on, scrolled through for a few seconds before stopping on some film that no one really cared to pay attention to.

Three silent hours passed before Germany spoke up. "What are we going to do now?"

"We need to try to get out of Italy. I know there's a high chance it's going to spread across to other countries, but right now it's worse here. We need to get somewhere safe, just so we can figure out the next move."

"How do you suppose these two will react to being forced out of their home?"

"Honestly, I don't think either will mind it," Spain replied.

"We won't," Romano said, lifting his head from Spain's shoulder. "We get it. It's dangerous."

"I'll book flights for the morning then."

"Good call, potato bastard."

Silence fell upon them once again as Germany opened Feliciano's laptop to buy the tickets.

"Shit."

"What?"

"All flights out of Italy are cancelled."

"Oh for fuck's sake."

"What about if you call your boss? Surely it's their duty to get us to safety?"

"Have you met my boss? He's a dick. I don't think he'd care for mine and Vene's safety, let alone our boyfriends."

"It's worth a try," Germany stated, closing the laptop.

"He's super homophobic, but fine."

"It's not like your sexuality has anything to do with this."

"Whatever. I'll call, but don't expect a good outcome. He'd probably be fine with leaving us here to die."

"You have little faith in people, mi amor."

"It's hard to have faith in people that prove time and time again that they're not to be trusted."

"Can't argue with that logic, Romano," Germany uttered, running his fingers subconsciously through Italy's hair.

"Neither can I." Spain grinned. "You call your boss, I'm going to get something to drink, can I get anyone else anything?"

"No thank you."

"I'll have some water please, Spagna."

"Anything for you, my little Lovi."

Antonio left Germany and Romano almost alone. Lovino pulled his phone from his pocket, readying himself for the awkward, and more than likely, pointless conversation with his boss.

* * *

 "What time is it?" Italy asked, sitting up.

"Just gone three," Germany replied.

"Why are you still awake?"

"I didn't want to wake you."

"Shut up, and tell him what has happened," Lovino muttered, handing Feliciano his glass of water to wet his dry throat.

"What's happened?"

"We're stuck in Italy. Flights out are cancelled, and your boss has already left the country and isn't doing anything to help us," Germany informed him.

"I saw that coming. Is that it?"

"Pretty much."

"Then I'm going back to sleep. Are you coming, Luddy?" Italy asked, standing from his place on the sofa.

"Ja. Goodnight, Romano, Spain."

"Night, Germany."

"Whatever, potato bastard."

Romano's eyes followed Germany and Italy as they left the room.

"You think they're going to be okay?" Spain questioned.

"If they're not, neither are we."

"I can't imagine how Italy's feeling. He practically dreamt this."

"I know." Romano sighed. "It's kind of why I'm pissed that the potato bastard's here."

"Huh?"

"Veneziano dreamt his death. If he wasn't here, I guess I wouldn't be thinking of the worst."

"What do you mean?"

"Are you stupid? My brother literally dreamt this horror, and in every single one of his dreams he watched the potato bastard die. For his sake, I don't want that to happen. His heart will probably break into pieces if anything of the sort happened." Lovino chewed his lip. "I will do all I can to not let that happen."

"Cute."

"What?"

"It's cute. You're so protective under all those walls you build around yourself. I too will do all I can to stop that part of his dreams coming true."

"It's not cute. It's being a decent human being."

"I didn't know you were capable of that, Roma."

"Shut your mouth, tomato bastard."

"Okay. Okay. We should go to bed, it's late."

"Yeah, I guess."

Romano and Spain made their way up to Romano's room, where they stripped off their clothing and settled back into the bed, Spain's arms wrapped tightly around Romano's body.

"Goodnight, Lovi."

"'Night, bastard."


	7. Chapter Six - Germany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romano really takes initiative in this chapter like wow
> 
> Recommended Listen: TAMUSIC - Luna Clock Quartet

Germany was pouring himself a glass of water when Romano burst into the kitchen, his breathing heavy. 

"Get my brother, we need to leave. Now."

"What?"

"I was just listening to the news, it's gotten worse. There's no time to explain just go get Vene, we need to go!" Romano scuttled out of the room as quickly as he entered. Judging by his speed, Germany could instantly tell something had happened, so forgetting about the spilt water across the side, he made his way out of the kitchen, and back up to where he'd left Italy sleeping peacefully."

"Italy, wake up." When Italy didn't stir, Germany pulled back the covers, exposing Italy's nude form to the chill of the early February morning. Veneziano curled in on himself, slowly slipping into consciousness. "Italy!"

"Ve, what is it?"

"You need to get up, we have to go."

Italy's eyes shot open in confused panic. "What's happening?"

"I don't know, but Romano looked scared. He said we need to leave, get up. Pack a bag, and meet us downstairs."

"Can I shower?"

"I don't think this is really the appropriate time. Get ready quickly."

"Is Germany okay?" Italy asked, his head tilted slightly to the left.

"Ja. Let's go." With that Germany left the room, his already packed back in his hands. He'd packed for this exact reason. He knew sooner or later they were going to have to make a swift exit from the comfort of the Vargas household. Spain and Romano were already in the front room, Romano pacing so fast Germany was sure he was going to wear a hole in the floor. Spain smiled up at him sleepily, a backpack slung over his shoulders.

"Where's that stupid brother of mine?"

"Getting dressed. What's happened that requires we leave at just gone three in the morning?"

"I'll tell you all when we've moved." Romano walked to the doorway of the living room. "Veneziano, if you don't get your sorry arse down here this second, we're leaving without you!"

Germany heard a panicked squeal before Italy pounded down the stairs, some clothes in hand. "I couldn't find a bag!"

"Put them in mine," Germany uttered, unzipping his backpack.

Italy shoved them in. "Ve, thank you!"

"Let's go."

Romano closed the door behind them, then with one last look up at the large house, the small group hurried away, their shoes pounding against concrete pounding loudly in their ears due to the silent, still night.

* * *

"Can we please take a break?" Italy whined, hands on knees and head between his legs. They'd been running for almost three hours, they were all tired and, other than Romano, completely confused about why they were running in the first place.

"Not much further, I promise." Romano grimaced. "We're going somewhere safe for the time being."

"Why was our house not safe?"

"I'll explain everything when we get there." The Southern half of Italy looked out into the darkness beyond them. "We need to move. We're too exposed."

"Italy," Germany started, dropping his backpack to the ground. "Come on, I'll carry you."

"Ve, really?"

"Something has your brother really worried, if it will make us get to our destination faster, I'll carry you. So, get on."

Italy jumped at Germany, latching onto his back tightly, his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Romano rolled his eyes.

"I'll take your pack." Romano grabbed the backpack from the floor, turning his back on everyone and walking off before anyone could point out the nice gesture. Spain rubbed at his sleepy eyes, then continued the trek into the unknown. Italy rested his head against Germany's shoulder, sighing in content. A blush spread up his face as he felt Italy's breath on his neck.

"Stop," Romano whispered, holding his arms out to the stop the group moving. "Be quiet." No one said anything, their eyes shifting to the trees beside them. They could all hear it. The faint crack of sticks, and shuffling of feet.

"It's probably just an animal," Antonio murmured, hand reaching out and grasping Romano's.

"Pretty big animal," Romano replied, squeezing the hand before pulling away.

"I'm scared," Italy whimpered, pressing his face further into Germany's shoulder.

"We should move. Standing here is getting us nowhere."

"Germany's right, Lovi. Whatever it is still sounds pretty far away, if we move now, we'll lose it."

"Yeah, okay. Let's walk though, so we don't attract attention to ourselves."

The three nations began to walk again, slowly, quietly. 

They didn't get far before Romano was once again stopping. "Hold on." Romano gazed into the slowly swaying trees, his eyes squinting slightly. He could see something, no, someone, coming towards them. He didn't have a chance to yell out to the others before the grey skinned creature limped out from the trees. Everyone froze in place, all staring at the thing slowly coming towards them.

"I think now would be a good time to run," Romano finally said, grabbing Spain's hand and staring off in a sprint in the opposite direction, only to be blocked off by more creatures emerging from the trees.

"Fuck," Spain muttered, head twisting to look all around them. "We're surrounded."

Romano pushed himself closer to Spain, breathing hard and heavy. "Left. We need to go left."

"But how? There's so many of them."

"Where did they come from?" Feliciano asked, staring at the figures closing in on them.

"I don't know. I didn't quite expect this." Romano rubbed his forehead. "They're slow, if we make a break for it, we can probably get past them easy enough."

"We're going to just run through them?" Spain questioned, his eyebrows raised.

"It's either that, or we stand here and let them kill us."

"You're right."

"Okay. On the count of three, we run."

"One," Spain started.

"Two," Germany added.

"Three!" Lovino yelled. The three of them sprinted left, Romano kicked one of the figures in the stomach, making it fall back just enough that they could slip through the enclosing circle of undead beings and further into the open space of the field they'd been trekking through.

* * *

Germany was close to collapsing by the time they came to a stop. Italy jumped off his back, instead opting for grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers. They looked down from the hill they'd stopped on, no longer being able to see the things that had blocked their path.

"Where now?"

"Actually, we're pretty close." The small group followed Lovino down the hill and towards a little cottage that was now coming into view.

"I remember this place," Antonio announced, smiling fondly at the small Italian. Romano attempted a glare in the Spaniards direction, but the blush across his cheeks betrayed the angry look his face held.

"You better, bastard."

"Ve, did big brother Spain take your virginity here, Lovi?"

"Italy!" Germany scolded, weary of the way Romano had turned to look at the younger Italian.

"I sure did!" Antonio informed, throwing his arm over Lovino's shoulders.

"Get off of me!" Lovino wiggled out of Antonio's grasp, putting distance between them.

"How cute!" Italy grinned. "Germany took-" Italy was cut off by Germany's large hand covering his mouth.

"That's quite enough."

Romano turned his glare from his brother, his face bright red and hot. The group stayed quiet until they reached the cottage. Lovino unlocked the door, herding them in.

"Is this yours, brother?" Italy asked as Lovino shut the large door behind them.

"Sì, I brought it as a getaway. I like to come here and just think sometimes."

"Enough small talk, what has today been about? We've been running for hours, and I seriously don't see why we didn't bring the car," Germany said, glaring down at Romano.

"I'll explain everything, just let me put the electric on. Spagna, start a fire, there's no heating here."

"Yes, Sir!"

* * *

"Can you finally tell us what's going on?" Germany asked, as everyone finally sat on the comfortable sofas, coffees in hand.

"Sì, I'll tell." Romano took a sip from his mug. "This morning I couldn't sleep, I kept feeling like something terrible was going to happen."

"Ve, worse than it already is?"

"Well, no. Not quite the same thing. I just had a pulling feeling in my gut that I couldn't shift. So, I put on the radio, just to see if anything had happened since we'd watched the news last." Lovino glanced at Spain, who's head was leaning against the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. "Spagna, who I'd woken up because of this feeling, kept telling me I was being silly. Telling me that nothing could possibly happen that was worse than what had already happened."

"I was wrong, clearly," Spain said, his voice grim.

Romano rubbed his thigh momentarily before looking back up at Germany and Italy who were watching him. "People are panicking, I shouldn't have to tell you that much."

Germany nodded in knowing.

"There have been attacks. Raids on bigger houses. Humans against humans. Riots across Rome, and other large cities throughout Italy. And other countries. What's going on here is causing worldwide panic."

"I'm still confused," Italy voiced.

"We live in a large house, Vene. People are killing for what the wealthier people in this country have. Stocking up on essentials, not caring if that puts other people at risk of this infection. We had to leave before our house got hit by the raiders. It could of been a matter of hours before it happened." Romano took the last swig of his coffee. "They have a name now too."

"What do?" Germany questioned.

"The creatures. The human like beings."

"Ve, what is it?"

"Zombies," Spain spoke up, finally lifting his head to look at the three other people in the room.

"Zombies? Isn't that a little, I don't know, cliche? This is real life, not one of those terrible horror films."

"It makes sense to me. That's what zombies are isn't it? Grey skinned, human like creatures, that feed off of the flesh of humans. Spreading their disease through the bites they leave on people." Spain's voice was dark, almost angry sounding. "Zombie is a fitting name for them."

"Is there a way of actually killing them?" Italy queried.

"The same way they do in the movies I suppose."

"Actually, you're right. If you destroy the brain, you destroy the monster," Lovino informed.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Germany snapped. "This has to be some sort of test. Survival of the fittest or something. Zombies? Fucking really? This is real life!"

"Don't you dare fucking snap at me. I'm just relaying important information. Why don't you fuck off, get yourself killed and then we'll know for sure? How does that sound? You know no one here would care. Stupid fucking potato bastard."

"Lovino!" Feliciano cried, gripping Ludwig's arm, tears glistening in his wide amber eyes.

Everyone stared at Romano, mouths agape and eyes wide.

"Whatever. I'm going to bed. You all should too."

"I'll stay up," Spain said, smiling sadly at Germany, who still looked shocked at Romano's outburst. "Someone needs to keep an eye out for zombies."

Lovino grimaced. He knew the real reason Spain wouldn't come to bed, he knew it had something to do with what he'd said. It was the only reasonable explanation for him willingly losing out on sleeping.

"Just," Romano stared. "Be careful, bastard."

"Of course."

No one said anything else as they made their way to the rooms just off from the living room. A quiet fell over the cottage, a quiet that no one could find the words to break. All nations were silently thinking the same thing, their minds wondering to just what would happen if one of them did die. If just one of the hundreds of nations that litter the world did become victim to the deadly disease. 

* * *

They'd been at the cottage for a little over a week. The unbearable silence still hanging over their heads, no one quiet meeting the others eye. Romano hadn't apologised, Spain was staying at arm's length from the man, Italy was furious at his big brother, avoiding him at all costs and Germany spent most days staying in his and Feliciano's shared bedroom, only coming out when necessary. It was like none of them could breathe anymore, like they were living in an alternate universe in which they didn't know each other and to all of them it was insufferable.

It was late on the eighth night in the cottage when Spain burst into Germany and Italy's room shouting about zombies. Both Italy and Germany shot up in bed, clambering out instantly and grabbing their weapons they'd collected, and followed Spain from the room. Romano was already in the living room, loading a gun, an energy bar hanging from his mouth. No one said anything as they gathered together, Spain occasionally peering out of the window into the dark night. Italy was staring wide-eyed at the front door that was bolted with several locks.

"Are you okay?" Germany whispered, placing his hand on Italy's shoulder.

"Yeah," he replied, hands clench around the bat in his hands.

"Spagna, what are we doing just standing here?"

"It's too dark to go out there and fight, besides, they're not exactly smart, if we're lucky they'll stagger straight past us," Spain answered, his tone hushed.

Every nodded, huddling close. Whispering hushed encouragements to one another, almost as if the feelings that had hung heavy over them had disappeared into nothingness. Italy's free hand gripped Germany's and Romano was lightly holding Spain's arm, ready to yank him away from the window if the zombies made an attempt at him through the glass. Thankfully for the four nations, they were in fact ignored by the group of zombies that had staggered into and out of view. When Spain could no longer see any trace of zombie, they let out a breath that none of them had realised they were holding.

Romano pulled Spain towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist, making sure Spain couldn't wiggle away if he tried. Spain returned the hug with a tightness that almost stopped Romano breathing altogether, but for once, Romano didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed it nudging his head into Spain's shoulder.

"That was close," Germany said, his own arms wrapped around Italy. "We should think of moving on from here. They're too close."

"Where would we go?" Spain asked.

"We could find a boat, try and get out of the country."

"Isn't that a bit risky?"

"Less so than staying here and being sitting ducks."

"Germany's right," Romano muttered, pushing himself from Spain's arms. "A boat out of Italy sounds like a pretty good idea to me."

"Isn't it also going to be the idea of millions of others though? Who's to say we'll even come close to getting on a boat out of here?"

"Spagna, stop being so pessimistic, it's not like you."

"I'm just thinking about what's best."

"It would be best." Romano took Spain's hand in his own. "Now, smile. We'll leave first thing."

"I'll stay up. Spain, go get some rest."

"Right you are, Germany."

Spain and Romano turned to leave the room.

"Oh, potato bastard?" Romano said, turning his head to look at Germany.

"Ja?"

"I'm sorry for what I said the other day," he mumbled.

Germany nodded his head. "Goodnight, Romano."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, I have no idea where in Italy they actually are by the end of this chapter. I don't know anything about Italy, so just use your imagination.
> 
> The first encounter was hard to write :((


	8. Chapter Seven - Prussia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using google translate for the Japanese I use, so please if it's wrong feel free to correct me.
> 
> If anyone knows the honorific titles Japan would use for Prussia, or anyone else he may talk to/about, please let me know. I've been reading about them, but I still don't quite understand which to use.

Three weeks. Three weeks Germany had been gone, three weeks since Prussia had last heard from his little brother. He had tried to get hold of him multiple times, only for his calls to be answered with voicemail. Prussia paced around the kitchen, the radio playing repeats of reports from Italy and their current horror. His phone pressed tightly to his ear as he listened to the dial tone. When he was answered once again by the voicemail message, he hung up the phone and slammed it against the table for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. He'd considered jumping on a plane to go find them himself, but that plan was thwarted the minute he realised Italy was currently a closed off country, no getting in or out.

Prussia sat, his head in his hands as he considered other ways to try to get hold of his little brother, and anyone else he knew was with him. He'd thought of sending Germany, and even Italy, an email, but knowing they weren't answering their phones, it also probably meant they weren't going to answer their emails either.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. Prussia pushed his chair back, grabbed his phone, and left the room. He was pleasantly surprised by the person standing on the other side of the door, small suitcase in hand.

"Hello, Japan."

"Kon'nichiwa, Prussia."

"What brings you here?" Prussia asked, stepping aside so the small man could come in.

"I came to see you."

"Me?"

"Hai."

"Please, sit," Prussia said, motioning at the sofa.

"Thank you." Japan sat down on the small sofa, his hands clasped in his lap. "I'm sorry for barging in like this unannounced."

"No need to apologise. I'm going to take it that this has something to do with Ita and West?"

"Hai. Have you heard from either of them?"

Prussia rubbed the back of his neck, his mind racing. _Had they not got in touch with anyone?_ He thought. _Not even Japan, a close friend of both his brother and Italy?_

"No. I haven't heard from West since he left here a few weeks ago. Things are bad in Italy."

"I'm aware of the situation. I myself have attempted contact with both Germany and Italy, gaining nothing from the unanswered calls. I was hoping you'd heard from them."

"Afraid not. I've tried West hundreds of times, he's not answering."

"Do you have any idea who's with them?"

"I believe Spain and Romano are there too, though, it wouldn't matter much as they're not answering my calls either."

"I see."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Prussia piped up. "Would you like something to eat? Drink? It's a long journey from your place."

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure? The awesome me can make some of your tea?" The Prussian put on a large fake smile, attempting to push down his overflowing worries of his friends and brothers' safety.

"You have Japanese tea?"

"Of course! West always has some for when you visit."

"How nice of him, but I really am okay."

"Okay. Would you like to stay here, or have you other plans?"

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"You're not!" Prussia slapped Japan lightly on the back. "Really, I'd like the company. Not that I'm lonely or anything. It's just really quiet without West."

Japan nodded, understanding the real reason Prussia was so insistent on him staying. "Very well."

"Great! The awesome me will go and set up the guest room!"

"Arigatō."

* * *

 Prussia was changing the sheets in the guest bedroom when his phone rang. He stopped everything, dropping the bunched up sheets in a bundle to answer his phone. He didn't look at caller ID before he was clicking answer and holding the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

_"Bruder."_

"West! What the fuck, where have you been?"

_"I'm sorry for not answering your calls."_

"So you fucking should be!" He sat down on the unmade bed. "Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

_"With everything that's been happening, I just haven't thought about small things such as my phone."_

"Small things? You have an older brother, who's in an entirely different country, who's been worrying about your well-being, and you don't have time to take a one-minute fucking call, or even just send me a fucking text to let me know you weren't dead?"

_"I'm sorry, Bruder."_

"That can wait."

_"What?"_

"How are you all?" Prussia braced himself for the worst possible news, his heart racing in his chest.

_"Everyone's okay. We're safe for the moment, although there have been a few scares."_

"A few scares?"

_"We were walking cross-country to a cottage Romano owns, when we were ambushed by-"_

"Zombies?"

_"Not you too."_

"That's just what they're calling them. Anyway, carry on."

_"We got away easy enough, thankfully they're slow."_

"What about the second time?"

_"That was actually tonight. There were some of them approaching the place we're staying, they just moved past it but it was enough to make us decide to leave here and move on."_

"Oh, West. None of you are hurt are you?"

_"Nein."_

"Where are you going next then?"

_"We're going to try and get a boat, as Spain has said it's risky, but it's also our best bet."_

"You are aware Italy's closed off right? It's illegal to leave, or enter, the country now. That's the only reason I'm not there."

_"We are aware of this, but we don't have any choice. No doubt there are people willing to do runs out of the country for a price."_

"I guess you're right there. Are you coming home then?"

_"I hope so, Bruder. I really do."_

"Is Antonio doing okay?"

_"He seems on edge, and he's pretty angry, but other than that he's fine."_

"That's not surprising. He's a loose cannon when he's angry, so just be careful around him."

_"Of course. Though, Bruder, there is a reason I called."_

"You didn't just want to check in with the awesome me?"

_"Nein."_

"Oh." Prussia lay back, staring up at the ceiling. "What is it?"

_"How are things in other countries? I heard there's worldwide panic, but that's it."_

He froze. Part of him wanted to lie to Germany, wanted to tell him things were fine elsewhere, but that wasn't the case.

_"Bruder?"_

"They're pretty shitty if I'm honest."

_"How so?"_

"There have been cases of the virus."

_"Where?"_

"Uh, Spain, France, Greece, there has even been some here and England. Plus, bad rioting. I'm surprised you can't feel it happening, I know England can feel the riots throughout his country."

_"I have been wondering what the feeling in my chest meant. Thank you for telling me the truth."_

"Would I ever lie to you?"

_"Ja. You would."_

"Oh, Japan's here. Would you like to talk to him before you go?"

_"I can't, it's almost time to move out. Tell him we all say hello though."_

"I will."

_"Stay safe, Bruder. Please."_

"You too."

_"I'll call you when I next get a chance, although I'm not sure when that'll be."_

"I'll be waiting. Bye, West."

_"Goodbye."_

Prussia hung up the phone, letting his drop to the bed beside him. He was glad they were all okay, but he couldn't help the nagging feeling in his mind. What if he never saw his little brother again. He knew the disease was spreading fast, he knew that somehow, despite Italy being closed off, it had already spread to several other countries, including the one he resided in. He also knew, unlike his brother and the rest of the nations, he could die. Prussia pushed the horrible thoughts from his mind, stood up and began making the bed once more.

* * *

 "Everything's ready, why don't you go up and put your stuff down. I'll make something to eat."

"Arigatō, Prussia."

"No problem!"

Once Japan had left Prussia alone once again, he made his way to the kitchen to fix them something.

Gilbert was dishing the noodles onto plates when Japan walked in, now dressed in a red tracksuit, and slippers on his feet.

"Is the room okay?" Prussia asked, sitting down in his usual chair.

"Yes, thank you."

Prussia waved his hand dismissively, then leaned his head on it.

"Is something the matter?"

"Huh?"

"You're quieter than usual. I'm used to you being louder than Italy."

"I got a call from West."

"Oh? Is everyone okay?"

"Just about. They've actually had some close calls with the things, I think they're all pretty shook up, but holding on."

"That's good to hear. I'm rather worried about England, I'll be honest."

"Yeah? I know they're having problems there, is it bad?"

"England called me the other day, he sounded weak already. It's not looking good there. Although, despite this, they're not closing the country."

"Sounds like England."

Kiku laughed softly. "Hai. I'm going to go and see him actually."

"You will be careful, right?"

"Of course." Japan took a sip from the water Prussia had placed on the table. "Things are getting worse here, you know?"

"Yeah, I've heard. West's boss is giving me the run down anytime something happens, I just wish there was something the awesome me could do, you know?"

Japan nodded his head, leaning back in his chair as he stared out of the kitchen window. "Do you think it'll get anywhere out of Europe?" He asked, his voice so quiet Prussia barely heard him.

"I want to say no, just to soothe your thoughts, but honestly with the speed it's spreading I'd be surprised if it didn't spread out side of Europe."

Japan stayed silent after that, his gaze continuing it's staring contest with the fairy lights that littered the back garden, making it bright enough to see any slight movements. Even when Prussia started to clear the table, Japan's gaze out of the window never faltered.

"Japan?"

"Hai?" He finally broke his gaze away to look up at the Prussia standing in front of him.

"I'm going to go to bed. Uh, help yourself to anything in the cupboards, or fridge, or whatever."

"Arigatō."

"Sure thing. Night."

"Goodnight, Prussia."

"Oh, Japan?"

"Hai?"

"West, and Italy too, say hi."

"That was nice of them, I'll be sure to say it back when we see them again."

"Right."

With that Prussia left the room, leaving Japan to once again stare out into the bright garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Kon'nichiwa - Hello (Japanese)  
> Hai - Yes (Japanese)  
> Arigatō - Thank you (Japanese)  
> Nein - No (German)  
> Bruder - Brother (German)
> 
> I feel like Japan sounded more like England in this, oops.


	9. Chapter Eight - Spain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know what Italy looks like and the places in Italy, forget them with this story. Wherever any characters are have no links to actual places in the country.

Early the next morning, the group of nations set out, large backpacks on some of their backs, and a comfortable silence over their heads. Italy swung his and Germany's hands together, humming a tune under his breath, whilst Romano stared down at a large unfolded map being held between him and Spain.

"So, where are we?" Spain asked.

"We're here." Romano pointed at a small hill on the map. "Our best bet for finding a boat would be here, at the water's edge. Although, I also think that's the last place we should look."

"Why? You just said that's our best bet."

"Think about it, we're weeks into this now, if there were boats there, there's a high chance they're already gone. We need to think out of the box."

"We could go into town? I'm sure there's going to be abandoned boats somewhere there."

"I don't know. I can't really imagine that being the case."

"Then where?"

"Here." Lovino pointed at what looked like a small shack just off from the shore."

"That's in the middle of the water, Lovi. Why would there be boats there?"

"It's a pretty unknown harbour. There could quite possibly be a boat or two there."

"So, that's the first place we'll look?"

"Sì."

"This may be a stupid question, but how do we get there?"

"Two people will have to swim out. It's not a far distance."

"Who're these two people?"

"Us, of course. I couldn't trust my idiot little brother or his potato to swim out there. You're the only one I trust."

"Aw, Lovi!" Spain exclaimed, pinching Lovino's bright red cheeks.

"Vaffanculo, Spagna." Romano folded the map back up with a huff, shoving it into a pocket on Spain's large bag.

"Ve, Lovi?"

"What is it, Vene?"

"Why are we walking, and not taking that cool car in your garage?"

"That cool car will get us killed."

"Why?"

"Simple. It's expensive. Things have got bad over the last few days, raiding has become an almost daily thing. If anyone was to see us in that car, we'd get shot on the spot. We need to be inconspicuous."

"We could just run them over though!"

"And ruin that beauty? No thanks. Besides, walking is better. If we're going to survive this, we need to stop being so lazy."

"Finally, I can agree with Romano on something," Germany said, hoisting his bag higher on his back.

"Shut up, potato bastard."

* * *

 By the time they were just over half way through their journey, the four nations were exhausted and hungry. Italy had started falling behind, his bat trailing against the grass floor. Romano had climbed onto Spain's back, and was dozing off, whilst Spain attempted to keep him steady, hold his own weapon and also the large backpack that he'd been carrying. Germany on the other hand was way up in front, holding the map out in front of him.

"Germany! Wait up!" Antonio called, shifting Romano's weight slightly.

Germany stopped in his tracks, turning his head to look at the slow people behind him.

"It's not far to go now," he said, once they'd all caught up.

"Germany?"

"What is it, Italy?"

"Can we take a break? My legs hurt!"

"I could use a break carrying Romano too, if I'm honest."

"Hey! I'm not heavy."

"Roma, I've been carrying you for hours, you feel like you weigh a ton."

"I suppose we could take a little break. It can't be long though, we want to be in safety before it gets dark."

Spain placed Romano on his feet, swiftly collapsing to the ground seconds later, the heavy bag landing in a heap beside him. Lovino settled down beside him, rubbing circles on his chest with his finger.

"What next then?" Lovino asked, as Germany and Italy sat opposite them.

"We eat, replenish a bit of energy then we get moving," Germany replied, handing Italy an energy bar from his bag. "You know; I didn't know Italy had such large fields. It feels never ending."

"That's a point. We've been walking, at a pretty fast speed for hours, and it still seems like we're getting nowhere," Spain mumbled, stretching his legs in the air.

"What's your point, Spagna?"

"Where are the zombies? They're slow, so where did they go?"

"Are you seriously concerned about the flesh-eating monsters right now?"

"No, of course I'm not. I'm just confused, did they just disappear?"

"Who knows, who cares? I for one am glad they aren't in sight, and if by the off chance they are just disappearing, then I am glad for that too."

* * *

 It was getting dark by the time they made it into the closest town. As soon as they stepped foot in the barren town, with its lack of people, Germany pulled Italy tightly to his side.

"What the fuck," Lovino whispered, eyes glancing over the broken shop windows, and the emptiness of it all.

"Germany, I'm scared," Feliciano whined, gripping Germany's arm tightly.

"Come on, there's got to be people somewhere."

"Preferably living," Romano growled.

"How did this happen? It's only been three weeks," Spain murmured, his grip on his weapon tightening.

"This is horrible."

"Ve, it's like the whole town has been wiped out."

"Idiota, don't say that."

"We should call out! If someone's here, they'll answer!" Italy took a deep breath, readying himself to yell, only being cut off by Germany's hand clamping over his mouth.

"Don't be fucking stupid, Vene."

"What?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"If I've learned anything from zombie horror movies, it's that calling out when in a seemingly empty place is a dumb idea. Talk about drawing attention to yourself."

"Ve, isn't that what we want?"

"You know, if I could be stuck in this with anybody else, I would be so fucking grateful. Now, shut up, and stop your incessant whining. We need to take cover somewhere."

"Where though? It seems like everything here is broken."

"An empty house, or something. It doesn't matter, we just need to get off the streets for the night."

"Lovi's right. It's getting dark, and I'm almost certain there'll be somewhere to lay low for the night."

"Let's split up," Romano suggested, grabbing Spain's hand and pulling him towards him. "Call us if you find somewhere for the night, we'll do the same."

"Are you nuts? Splitting up is a terrible idea," Germany said, glaring at Romano.

"Don't fucking argue with me. It'll be the quickest way to find somewhere safe." Before Germany had another chance to reject the idea, Romano was pulling Spain in the opposite direction, leaving Germany and Italy staring after them.

"Lovi, you know, Germany was probably right. People always die when a group is split up."

"I just wanted some time with you alone, goddamnit. We're going to be stuck with my stupid brother as his potato for god knows how long, I'll take any chance I can to get you alone."

"Aw! Lovi!" Spain pushed his face against Romano's, rubbing their cheeks together.

"Shut up dammit."

"So, where are we going?" Spain asked, gripping Romano's hand tightly.

"We need to find somewhere warm and relatively safe. Any ideas?"

"First things first, do you have any idea where we are?"

"Germany has the map, so no, I don't know exactly where we are. I do know we're in the South, and the place we're heading is North of this place."

"Why don't we just keep moving then?"

"Because, idiot, it's getting dark. It's not exactly safe to be wondering around when we can't see three fucking steps in front of us."

Spain rubbed his thumb over Romano's. "Okay, I get it."

"Hey, Spagna?"

"Sì?"

"Have you got in contact with that pervert France, and potato bastard number two?"

"No, why?"

"Maybe you should."

"Lovi?"

"You know I hate them, and that It think your friendship with them is terrible, but they are your friends. I'm sure they're both worried about you."

Spain pulled Romano closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

"What are you doing, idiota?"

"I just wanted to hug my sweet, thoughtful Lovi!"

"Get off, we need to keep looking," Romano mumbled, despite the fact his arms were wrapped just as tightly around Spain.

"Okay, let's go," Antonia said, pulling away from their embrace and once again taking his hand.

* * *

 Antonio shut the heavy door behind them, leaving the small room pitch black. Romano turned the torch on his phone on, lighting up the room just enough for them to be able to walk through it without knocking things over or hurting themselves.

"Is this okay?" Antonio asked, stepping forwards slightly.

"For tonight, yes."

"Thank God. We should call your brother and Germany-" Spain was cut off by Romano's lips against his own, forcefully pushing him back against the door. Romano's hands trailed under his shirt, stroking at his abs.

"Fuck, I want you," Romano mumbled, his lips working at Spain's neck.

"Lovi," Spain moaned, tilting his head slightly.

"Mhm?"

"Fuck," Spain moaned, his eyes clenched shut. "Lovi, stop."

Romano's mouth continued its assault on his neck.

It took all of Spain's strength to finally push Romano off of him, his breathing hitched and his crotch stiff. "Romano, stop!" Spain almost shouted.

"What the fuck? Don't you want me?"

"Of course I do, Lovi, but your brother and his boyfriend are out there, it's too risky. I'll call your brother; you calm yourself down." Spain sighed, placing his hand on Romano's shoulder. "When it's not so dangerous, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk, okay?"

Romano growled. "Don't talk like that if you don't plan on taking me here and fucking now."

Spain grinned. "Go sit down, Lovino. I'll be over in a minute."

Lovino glared at Antonio before he turned his back and walked to the other side of the room.

* * *

 "You found us!" Spain grinned, closing the door after both Italy and Germany had walked into the small room.

"Of course they fucking did, bastard," Romano shouted, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Ve, what happened?" He asked, looking between his brother and Spain.

"Nothing fucking happened."

"Ve, did you two have an argument?"

"Shut the fuck up, Veneziano."

"Romano, be nice."

"Don't fucking tell me what to do, Spagna. I'm not a fucking child."

"Then maybe you should stop acting like one, Romano."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'then maybe you should-"

"I know what you fucking said."

"Why did you say 'excuse me' then?"

"Big brother Spain, big brother Romano?"

"Stay out of this, Veneziano!" Romano yelled, turning his glare to his brother, who took shelter behind Germany.

"Fucking hell, Lovino, stop being a little brat."

"How dare you talk to me like that, Spagna!"

"As I said, if you stopped acting like a child, I'd stop talking to you like you're a child." Spain crossed his arms over his chest, his own uncharacteristic glare shooting daggers at the elder Italian.

"Maybe if you'd just had fucking sex with me we wouldn't be-"

"That's enough!" Germany screamed, slamming his hand against a small table in the middle of the room.

Romano and Spain's heads shot to look at Germany, blushes of anger and embarrassment across their cheeks.

"I'm going to sleep," Romano finally said, turning his back on the small group.

For the rest of the night, the small room was quiet with an exception of Romano's small snoring, and Italy's well-concealed sobs into Germany chest. Spain sat, his back against the heavy door, staring into the nothingness of the dark room. He couldn't figure out why Romano had been so mad at him, he couldn't help but think it had nothing to do with the fact he wouldn't sleep with him there and then, but something else. Something he didn't want to talk about, so instead he lashes out at anyone who happens to say no to something he suggests.

* * *

 "Bastard, get up." Romano nudged Spain awake with his foot. "We need to move out."

"Just a few more minutes," he mumbled, moving away from the incessant light kicks from the Italian.

"We'll just fucking leave you here then." Romano bent down beside the Spaniard, who'd curled up into a small ball during the night, and began rolling him away from the space in front of the door.

"Ve, Lovino don't be so mean!" Italy whined from his place on Germany's back.

"I'll be as mean as I fucking want. If he doesn't get his stupid butt up, we'll leave him. We don't have time for his laziness."

"You know, Lovi, you're not being very cute right now," Spain murmured, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "You should be more-"

"Don't fucking say it. Don't you fucking dare tell me to be more like Veneziano."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Vaffanculo - Fuck off (Italian)  
> Idiota - Idiot (Italian)


	10. Chapter Nine - Spain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, sorry about that

They'd been walking for an hour when Romano finally stopped several feet in front of them. His hands were on his hips as he stared off into the distance, the early morning sun making his hair shine.

"Ve, Lovi, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just waiting for you lot to finally catch up with me."

"We're not that far behind you," Spain snapped. "And if you haven't noticed Germany and I have heavy fucking bags on our back, so maybe you could cut us some slack?"

"Vene, potato bastard, you go off ahead. Keep going straight, Spagna and I will catch up."

"But-"

Germany cut him off. "Come on, Feliciano. Let's let them talk." Germany grabbed Italy's hand and pulled him away. Spain and Romano stood in silence until they were out of sight.

"Why have you made them go ahead?" Spain asked, cracking his stiff back.

"Give me the bag."

"What?"

"If all you're going to do is complain, give me the fucking bag."

"It's heavy, Romano, I don't mind holding it." Spain's voice was softer now.

"You clearly do. I'm not incapable of holding my own stuff."

"I know you're not."

"Then let me hold it."

Antonio stayed silent for a moment, staring over Lovino's shoulder, his eyes wide.

"What is it, bastard?"

"Lovi, be quiet and move closer to me."

"Why?" Lovino jerked his body around. "Oh fuck."

"Draw your gun, Lovino."

Lovino pulled his gun from its holster on his hip. "Fucking Vene and Germany went that way," Romano hissed, stepping closer to Spain.

"They'll be fine, if they weren't we would have heard screaming."

"There's so many of them," Lovino said, aiming his gun in the direction of the zombies that had emerged from an alley. "I can't hit them all."

"It's fine, just get a few of them, we just need to be able to get past them."

Romano aimed his gun at the steadily approaching Zombies, he shot several bullets, each hitting its intended target. They watched as the Zombies flew backwards at the impact of the bullets, before they took cover inside an alley. Spain held Romano back whilst he poked his head round to see where how long they had before the Zombies were on them.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Romano murmured, gripping his chest in an attempt to stop his heart beating out of his chest.

"They're getting faster," Spain said, turning to face Romano in the cramped space. "We need to get out of here. Reload your gun-"

Spain was cut off by the sound of more gunshots, and the slight thumps of bodies hitting the concrete floor.

"What the fuck was that?" Romano whispered, clinging onto Spain's arm.

"You boys okay in there?" A voice called out before Spain had a chance to answer. "The damn things are gone, you can come out. I won't hurt you."

"Reassuring," Lovino muttered. "Should we?"

"What have we to lose?"

"Our lives?"

"There's already a chance of that, let's play with fire a bit more."

"You're a fucking psycho sometimes, Spagna."

Spain grinned at the Italian, before pulling him out of the small alley. "Hola!"

"Do you speak English?"

"Yes. Thank you for helping us," Spain said, dropping Romano's hand making some space between them.

"That's no problem, son. I'm Garrett, you are?"

"I'm Antonio, this is Lovino. Nice to meet you."

"I wish I could say the same." The man, Garrett, grimaced. "What brings you here?"

"We're making our way to the shore, hoping to find a boat."

"A boat? You must be crazy! This is the worst part of it all, there's no boats left."

"I fucking knew it, this was a terrible idea." Spain ran his fingers through his dirty hair, groaning loudly.

"Hey now, I said there wasn't any boats you could just take, I have a boat though. I use it to come back here and raid some of the abandoned shops. I'd be happy to take you to Spain. For a price."

"What's the price?"

"Food. I'm running out, and these shops have little to nothing left."

Spain looked at Romano who just shrugged his shoulders and bit his lip.

"Fine. You have a deal. Where's this boat?"

"At the harbour, follow me."

Spain and Romano stepped over the bloody bodies that were spread out across the floor, blood splattered all around them. Romano held his breath, the smell overpowering.

"Stop clinging to me, Lovino," Spain snapped, pulling his arm away from the clingy hands of his boyfriend.

"I wasn't clinging to you, bastard."

"Keep telling yourself that."

* * *

 Spain and Romano followed the man for what seemed like hours before they finally got to the harbour, the broken boats just barely bobbing in the water, completely unusable. Romano spent the majority of the walk with his head down staring at his feet to stop himself begging the man next to him to stop treating him to cruelly. Not that he'd ever actually do that. Romano doesn't beg. Spain on the other hand, spent the journey wondering why he couldn't bring himself to be nice to the small Italian, despite how much he wanted to pull him close and never let him go.

"Fratello!" Italy pounced on Romano, before either had a chance to see him, knocking Romano backwards. Romano embraced himself for impact with the floor, but was happily surprised when his back hit a firm chest. He turned to look up at Spain who was stood behind him and a small smile playing on his lips.

"Fucking hell, Feli," Romano said, straightening himself up.

"Who's this?" Feliciano asked, tilting his head to the side.

"This is Garrett, he has a boat and is willing to take us to Spain."

"No strings attached?" Germany questioned, his tone sceptical.

"Afraid not, my dear boy. I will be asking for food in return."

"Figures."

"I should also tell you some things before you make up your mind."

"What's that?"

"One; Spain's been infected too. It's not as bad as Italy, which is falling to the ground as we speak, but it's getting there. More and more people are being infected by this virus."

"Spain? Oh God," Antonio muttered, a sad frown spreading across his mouth. "What else?"

"It'll be a long trip. It takes roughly nineteen hours to get to Barcelona from here. It'll also be cramped and cold."

"Anything else?"

Garrett stared at the small group, his eyes falling on each one with a sad look on his face. "I'm sorry, but I can only take three of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah I can't write these actual zombie scenes, I'm sorry they're so crap atm I'll work on it!!!


	11. Chapter Ten - Spain

"I'm sorry, but I can only take three of you."

The four nations stared at him, mouths open, shock written across their faces.

"What do you mean you can only take three of us?" Spain snapped, glaring at the man.

"I didn't realise there were so many of you, I thought it was just the two of you. I'm very sorry."

Spain looked around at the silent group, then turned back to the man. "No man gets left behind. Thanks for nothing."

"If you change your mind, I'll be leaving first thing in the morning."

"Change our minds? Fat chance. We're an odd bunch, and we don't always get along, but there's no way in hell we'll be splitting up."

"I understand. Just know," he said, looking directly at Italy and Romano. "I'll be here if you want to come along."

Antonio stepped in front of Romano, blocking the man's gaze. "Move along, Sir." Spain didn't even attempt to hide the poison in his voice. The man sighed before he turned his back and walked towards the dock.

"What now?" Romano asked.

"We could always steal his boat," Spain answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"And leave the poor guy stranded here?"

"Poor guy? He's doing the same to us!"

"Stop being such an arse, Spagna. It doesn't suit you. It's not his fault he can't take us all, he looked genuinely sad when he realised. It's my job to have such little faith in people, you're supposed to be the forgive all sorta guy."

"Don't tell me what I'm supposed to be, Romano."

"I throw my hands up with you, Spain. Everything I say is wrong."

"Now you know how it feels to be me, don't you?"

"Guys! Stop fighting!" Germany yelled, stepping between the arguing nations. "What has gotten into you two?"

"Nothing," Romano spat, turning his back on Spain. "We should just head back to where we spent the night, rest up and make a new plan."

"Fratello's right."

"Fine. Let's go back."

* * *

It didn't take long for them to return back at the place they'd slept the night before. As soon as the door closed behind them Romano sat back in the corner he'd claimed as his, Italy and Germany sat against a wall, Italy panting quietly, whilst Spain lent against the door staring at a sulking Lovino. On the way back they'd got into yet another argument about Spain's recent attitude. It ended with a very angry Spain telling Romano hat he didn't love him anymore and to fuck off. Italy had cried. Romano had sulked. All in all, it was an eventful, long walk.

Spain was brought out of his thoughts by a small voice. "Big brother Spain?"

"What is it, Ita?"

"Why are you and Lovi fighting so much? I've never seen you actually fight before!"

Spain's gaze fell on Romano, who had his face hidden in his knees. "I don't know, Italy. He's just been really on my case since yesterday."

"You're just as on his case as he is on yours."

"I'm just giving back everything he's given me since he was a child."

Italy stared at him, his face serious. "Big brother Spain, is now really the time for your petty revenge? Fratello is really sad. He's not even trying to hide it, that's how sad he is."

Spain widened his eyes at the Italian. Italy had never spoken to him like that before. He felt his heart drop. He'd been causing problems for everyone, and he hadn't even noticed how badly he'd been hurting the one person he'd never dreamed of hurting. "No, I guess not."

"Then go say sorry!" Italy's smile was back and bigger than ever. "Romano will be more than happy to have you say something nice to him!"

"Right. You're right. Thank you, Ita."

"But remember this, Antonio," Italy said, his face shifting to something almost sinister. "Hurt my brother again, and I won't hesitate to break your legs with a bat."

"What?"

"Nothing!" He was grinning again. "Go!"

Spain watched as Italy crossed the dark room to sit beside Germany once more. He then made his way to where Romano was sitting, and sat down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Romano jumped at the sudden contact, pulling away from Spain's grip.

"Bastard! Get off of me!" Lovino's voice was croaky, and his eyes were red.

"Lovi, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

"No you're not. You meant what you said. You don't love me anymore. Which is fine, because I don't love you either."

Spain rolled his eyes. "Lovi, I've never loved anyone more than I love you."

"You've never loved anyone then."

"You're really an idiot if you think I meant what I said. I love you so much, if I didn't, do you really think I would've stuck around for this long?"

Lovino thought about this for a second before he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what goes on in that small brain of yours."

Spain grinned. "We've been together for too long to just give up because of some small arguments."

"Small? You've never told me you didn't love me anymore before."

"I was just angry. I wasn't even angry at you, you were just an easy target to argue with, because you're always so willing."

"You make me sound like a terrible person." Lovino shifted closer to Antonio. "Not that I care what you think."

"You wouldn't be my Lovino if you weren't willing to argue with me."

"Who says I'm _your_ Lovino? I'm a person, not an object."

"You used to be mine."

"Yeah, in the good old days of being bossed around and walked all over."

"Come on, Lovi, we all know you were the one that walked all over me as a kid. I couldn't have bossed you around if I tried."

"You did try, I just refused. You spoiled me too much, you know that right?"

"You're right there. I did spoil you too much."

Lovino rested his head against Antonio's shoulder. "I love you too, bastard."

"I'm well aware, Lovino." He kissed the elder Italian's head. "I'm well aware."

* * *

That night, once Italy and Romano were curled up asleep, their heads in their respective partner's laps, Germany and Spain sat quietly. They listened to the light breathing of their boyfriends as they snored away almost peacefully.

"Antonio?" Germany broke the silence, startling at the use of his human name.

"Yes?"

"Sorry, that was rude. I shouldn't have called you that."

"No! It's fine. I don't mind. What is it?"

"I want you to take these two and leave."

"What?" Spain hissed, running his fingers through Romano's greasy mess of hair.

"I want you, Italy and Romano to get on that boat in the morning. I want you all to go back to Spain, get somewhere safe. I don't care where; I just need Italy safe. I'd never be able to live with myself if he gets hurt, or worse, killed."

"Germany?"

Tears were rolling down his pale cheeks as he stared down at the small Italian on his lap. "Please, Spain, do this. You don't owe me anything, but I'm begging you, take these two to safety."

"You know Italy would never allow this."

"Then force him away." Germany voice cracked. "I don't care how, but make him leave. We'll all walk down to the docks in the morning."

"You can't do this to him, Germany. It's not fair!"

"I'm not arguing. Don't you want to get Romano to safety?"

"Of course I do," Spain snapped. "But I meant it when I said no one was getting left behind!"

"Don't shout, you'll wake them."

"We're not leaving you here, Germany, don't be so fucking stupid."

"Spain, please. Get to Germany, find my brother. I'll be okay."

"Okay?! You'll fucking die here by yourself!"

"I'm stronger than all of you, I can handle myself. And I know you can too." Germany rubbed Italy's back lightly. "These two not so much. Just do this for me, please?"

Spain had never heard Germany sound so broken, so scared. He stayed silent for a moment, just stroking Romano's hair. "Fine."

"Really?"

"Yes. But don't expect Italy to ever forgive you for this, because I can't imagine he will."

"I don't care about that." He wiped at a tear tickling his cheek. "I just care about him, and Romano too, being safe."

"Why do you care so much about Romano? He's horrible to you."

"Because Italy cares about him. Italy would never forgive anyone who just let Romano get hurt, and I think you know that first hand."

Spain thought back to earlier that day. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

"So will you take them? Even if it means carrying Italy away forcefully."

"I will. I'll look after him for you, until you can get back to him."

"Thank you, Antonio."

"Of course, Ludwig." He smiled at him sadly. "You will come find him, right?"

"As soon as I can."

"Do you promise? Wholeheartedly?"

"Yes, Spain. I promise, hand on heart, I will find him again."

"You better. I mean that. You better keep that promise." He glanced down at Feliciano. "Or his heart might just break."

"He's stronger than people give him credit for, you are aware of that, right?"

"I'm more than aware of it, I have known him since he was a child after all. That doesn't make a difference in this situation though. He may be strong, but he loves you. He relies on you always being there, he's lost so many people. I'm not sure he could handle losing you."

"I'm not going anywhere. Not really."

"Who are you kidding? You could die staying here alone."

"I'm not going to die. My country would have to fall for that to happen, and as far as I'm aware, Germany is doing just fine."

Spain turned his head to look at Germany, his eyebrows furrowed. "Do we know that for sure?" He asked, his voice small.

"Yes. We're nations, we can't die unless our countries do."

"In any other situation, I would agree. As someone who's been involved in many hardships, and is still here today. But this is new, Germany. We've never seen anything like this. Who knows if we could survive this?"

"That's enough, Spain. You're just scaring yourself."

They both stayed silent after that. Both thinking the same thing. Spain had a point. Who knew if this was something they could survive as nations alone? For all they knew, they really could die after being infected. Germany knew this. He knew theoretically this could kill him. He might not live to find Italy again, but he also knew he had to stay strong. Keep his stoic facade up, and let Italy feel he was normal Germany until it was time to leave.

* * *

"Bastard, did you get any sleep last night?" Romano sat up, cracking his sore back from sleeping on the hard concrete floor.

"Huh?"

"You really should sleep, Antonio," he said, rubbing his thumb across the bags under Antonio's eyes.

"I did sleep, don't worry about me." Lie. Antonio had sat there throughout the night, trying to think over everything he and Germany had talked about. Even long after Germany had dozed off, his hands stopping abruptly in Feliciano's hair, Spain stayed awake. He couldn't get his head around how Germany could just ask him to take Italy away, as if that would be an easy job.

"Hey! What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Lovi, I'm fine."

Lovino nuzzled his head into the crook of his neck. "I wish you wouldn't lie to me."

"I'm not lying, seriously, I'm fine."

"You're not, but whatever." He pressed a light kiss to Spain's jaw. "What's going to happen today?"

"Germany suggested we go back to the harbour, figure something out from there."

"Isn't that just a waste of time?"

"Maybe, but it's worth a try."

"You're way too optimistic."

Spain laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I suppose."

* * *

"Let's play a game!" Italy exclaimed, clinging to Germany's arm.

"What game do you want to play?" Germany asked, staring straight ahead, not risking making eye contact with the Italian.

"Let's play chase!"

"Serious, Vene, you're a fucking child."

"Don't, Lovi. Just let him be."

Feliciano pouted. "But, Romano, it's boring just walking! Let's make a game out of it!"

"Count me out of your little games, Veneziano. Some of us actually want to still be able to run if we get attacked."

"Maybe chase isn't such a good idea, Italy," Spain piped in, glancing at Germany who was still staring ahead, his body stiffer than Antonio had ever seen it.

"Let's just walk, we don't really have time to waste," Germany said, momentarily glancing at the three people behind him.

"The potato bastard is right." Romano grimace. "And you won't hear me saying that often."

Spain chuckled bitterly. "No, I don't suppose we will."

"Spain, hold your tongue."

"Don't talk to him like that. Vene, keep your German on his leash."

"Lovi, don't. It's fine. Really."

"Ve, Luddy isn't on a leash?"

"He should be."

"That's not very nice, Romano. Ve, Germany's perfectly fine without one!"

"Whatever. How much longer have we got to walk? I'm exhausted."

"Are you feeling okay, Lovi?" Spain placed his hand on Romano's head. "You're really hot."

"I know," Romano replied, his voice weak. "I don't feel so good."

"Do you need wat-" Spain was cut off by Lovino dropping to the ground, his breathing hitched. "Lovi!"

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know." Spain dropped his bag, pulled out a bottle of water and slowly tipped it into Romano's mouth, making sure not to choke him. "He's burning up. Germany, what do we do?"

"We need to get going, I'll take your bag, you carry him."

"Can't it wait?"

Germany glared at Spain. "No. We need to go, now."

"Ve, but Luddy, Romano's not well!"

He huffed, but agreed to wait a few minutes for Romano to join them in consciousness.

It wasn't more than five minutes later when Romano slowly opened his eyes. Antonio hugged him close, despite Lovino's objections.

"Ve, Romano! Are you okay?"

"Can you walk?"

Romano glared at the tall German, before pushing himself to his feet. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's keep moving."

"Are you serious, Lovi? You just passed out, you're sitting down for a minute. Have a drink." Spain shoved the bottle of water into Romano's hand. "Take a drink, then we'll keep moving."

Romano downed half of the bottle, before he handed it back to Spain. "Happy?"

"Not really." He glanced at an antsy looking Germany. "But let's go."

* * *

Germany's heart was racing as they approached the harbour. He could see Garrett attending the small boat, tiny was the right word, he was filling it with a few bottles of water, and some tins of what they presumed was food. Garrett turned to face them, waving as he caught sight of the small group.

"I'll be back in a moment, Roma, stay here."

"Where are you going?"

Spain glanced at Germany, who was looking down at his feet, his hand grasping Italy's tightly, before turning back to his boyfriend. "I'm going to apologise to Garrett. For yesterday, I was rude."

"I'd say. Just be quick."

Spain turned his back on them and jogged across to where Garrett was tending his boat.

"Didn't expect you to come back," he said, smiling at Antonio.

"I didn't expect to come back, I'll be honest."

"Then why did you?"

"We want to take up your offer for a trip to Spain."

"I already told you, I can't take all four of you. I wish-"

"I know. We know. That's why I came over here alone actually."

"Just you?"

"No, we're leaving Ludwig here."

"Did he do something to bother you?"

"No, of course not. And trust me, if it were up to me we wouldn't be, but he wants Feliciano safe."

"I'm not following. Why does that require you to come over alone?"

"Feliciano doesn't know. We'll only board the boat once it's ready to go."

"To stop him refusing?"

"Exactly. As soon as he realises what's happening, he's not going to be happy. Please, give me a sign when you're done sorting everything out."

"It's all done. It just needs its passengers."

"Already?"

"Yes. Honestly, if you'd been any later I'd already be on my way."

Spain's mouth trembled. "Okay. I'll." He swallowed. "I'll just go get them."

"All good?" Germany asked, once Spain had joined them again.

"Yeah, it's fine. He said we could go."

"Did the nice man change his mind about all of us going?" Feliciano grinned, getting back onto his feet. Spain wanted to say something, ask him why he was on the ground, but a single look from Romano stop him from saying anything about it, and instead answering Feliciano's question.

"Something like that."

"Spain, Romano, can you give Italy and I a moment?"

"Why bastard?"

"Lovi, let's give them a second."

Romano glanced between Germany and Spain, clearly realising something was off, so he followed Spain away.

"What's going on, Spagna?"

"Nothing!" His voice cracked, giving him away.

"Stop bullshitting me! You and that potato freak are hiding something! I demand-"

"Spain, come on."

"You'll find out soon, Lovi." Antonio and Lovino made their way back to the two nations, Italy was grinning and bright blush on his cheeks, Germany on the other hand looked like he was about to break down, his mouth twitching slightly. "Are we ready?"

"Yes."

"Hey, Feli?"

"Yes, big brother Spain?"

"Come here." Spain opened his arms, signalling the younger Italian to hug him.

"Okay!" Feliciano walked into Spain's open arms, but as soon as he did he was picked up and thrown over Spain's shoulder. "What are you doing, big brother Spain?"

"I'm so sorry, Ita. So fucking sorry."

"Spagna, what's going on?"

"Come on, Romano. We're going."

"Why are you carrying my brother?"

"Let's go, Romano!"

"Why are you crying? And why is Germany crying?" Romano refused to move, instead he was looking between Spain and Germany in confusion.

"Put me down, Spain!"

"I can't do that, Italy."

"Thank you for doing this, Spain."

"Ve, Germany?"

"I'll see you soon, okay? I promise I'll come and find you."

"What are you talking about Luddy?"

"I'm sorry," he choked on his own words, wiping at the tears that had escaped from his eyes.

"No! Spain put me down!" Italy was sobbing, kicking at Spain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "Put me down! Put me down!" He was screaming. "I'm not leaving Germany! Fucking put me down you Spanish twat!"

"I'm so sorry, Italy."

"Feliciano," Germany said. "Please, stop screaming."

"Wait!" Romano yelled out, grabbing Spain to stop him walking. "What the fuck are you doing? You said we weren't leaving anyone behind!"

"Can we just go? I can't stand this."

"What about him?" He pointed at the squirming Italian, who could no longer speak through his tears. "How do you think he feels?"

"Pretty fucking terrible, I imagine, Lovi. I know that. I fucking know that!" He yanked his arm from Lovino's grip and continued down the path, trying his hardest to ignore the heart-breaking sobs from the man over his shoulder, and the painful kicks to his legs.

Italy was reaching his arms out to Germany, screaming his name.

"Italy, please don't make this any harder than it already is," Spain said, tightening his grip on Feliciano's thighs.

"You can shut up, Spain," he sobbed, punching Spain's back.

"Feliciano," Germany spoke out, jogging to close the distance between himself and the struggling Italian.

"Ve, please don't let them take me from you! How can you be letting this happen?" Italy asked, pausing from his punches to grab onto Germany.

"Germany, we really should be going."

"Shut up, Spagna." Lovino pushed Germany closer to Italy, letting Italy fully wrap his arms around the German. "Just let them say a proper goodbye."

Germany rested his forehead against the Italians, his hands on either side of Italy's face.

"Please don't let them take me," he sobbed again.

"Goodbye, Feliciano." Germany wiped the tears from Italy's cheeks. "We'll be together again soon. I promise." He pressed a hard kiss to Italy's mouth, before he pulled away from his tight grip. "Go, now. Run."

"No!" Italy screamed as Spain picked up his pace, running towards the boat. Lovino joined them at the boat a minute later, his own eyes ringed red from tears.

"All ready?" Garrett asked, as Spain settled down in the boat.

"As we'll ever be." He glanced over his shoulder at Germany, who was watching from afar.

"Please calm down, Vene," Romano begged, holding Italy against his chest tightly as to stop him climbing off the boat and running back to the tall German standing so far away.

"Don't tell me what to do! I want Luddy!"

"I know you do, I fucking know you do."

Spain watched them, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He hadn't seen Italy cry like this for a very long time, nor had he seen Romano so attentive of his brother in what he thought was ever. Romano's hand rubbed Italy back and he held him tightly. He was crying too. Spain wasn't really sure the exact reason Romano was crying, but he didn't ask, he just turned his back on the brothers, waiting for the boat to start moving and Italy's screams for Germany to resume.

"Are you sure? He doesn't sound ready." Garrett pointed at Feliciano.

"He's never going to be ready, so let's go. And prepare your ears, he's going to start screaming the minute the boat moves."

Spain's intuition was right. The minute they felt the boat begin to move across the water, Italy pulled his head from Lovino's chest and began screaming to Germany again. Spain was pretty sure he could hear Italy's heart breaking.

"Luddy!" He screamed, repeating it over and over.

Spain turned to look at Germany once more. He'd run closer to the docking area, and Spain could see him wiping tears from his face.

"Ich liebe dich, Feliciano!" He shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth.

"Te amo anch'io, Ludwig," he replied weakly, his voice now hoarse. Spain was sure Germany wouldn't have been able to hear him, but he didn't say anything, he just waved sadly at the German, avoiding eye contact with Romano, who was glaring at him.

* * *

Spain wasn't sure when Italy stopped crying, or when he stopped trying to struggle out of Lovino's grip. He wasn't sure when he'd finally stopped hearing his pained cries echoing in his ears. It was safe to say, Spain felt awful. He couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt worse for doing something. He wished Germany had never asked him to do it. He wished they'd all just stayed together in Italy. Sure, Italy was falling apart, that was made obvious by Lovino's sudden weakness, and passing out, but at least they'd all have been together. At least he wouldn't have to picture Germany, dying alone. At least they'd have died together.

"Antonio?" Romano whispered, breaking the silence of the boat.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you do it? Why are we leaving him?"

"He asked me to. He wanted me to take you and your brother to safety. He just wanted you both safe."

"Why didn't you tell me? I wasn't prepared for Feli's outburst."

"I didn't want you to try to stop me. I promised Ludwig. I promised I'd keep Feliciano safe until he could get back to us."

"That bastard. How could he do that?"

"I'd do the same."

"What?"

"I've thought about it, and yeah, I'd have done the same. To keep you safe."

"We were safer together. The four of us."

"That's not true, and you know it. I know you can feel it. Italy's fallen, or at least the South half." Spain glanced at Garrett, happy to see he'd fallen asleep, so there was no way he'd be listening in on their conversation.

"You noticed?"

"Of course I did. You're weak, Lovino. You're exhausted."

"I can die."

"Don't you dare, Lovino. You are not going to die. Neither is Germany. No one is dying."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm Spain, the forever optimist." He smiled sadly at Lovino. "I made a promise, and you of all people should know that I keep my promises."

"You know he's going to hate you right? Feliciano I mean."

"Probably, and I don't really blame him. I took him away from the man he loves, I wouldn't forgive me either."

"I'd hate you, you know?"

"What?"

"If you made the potato bastard take me away from you, I'd never forgive you. If I'm going to die, I'm going to die with you by my side."

"I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, Lovi," Spain joked, kissing the Italian's cheek.

"Shut up, bastard."

"Te amo, Lovino."

"Ti amo anch'io, bastard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Germany and Italy are SO ooc in this chapter, it was hard to keep them in character considering what happened.
> 
> The last bit was so hard to write, I knew exactly what I wanted to happen I just couldn't get it across without it losing the emotion (Which I feel it did). It was too long winded, and frankly, I didn't know how to fix that.


	12. Chapter Eleven - Germany

Germany knew as soon as the harbour came into view that we weren't ready. He wasn't ready for Italy to be taken away from him. He knew it was for the best, Spain was safer after all. It was obvious after Romano's passing out that Italy was almost done for. The South already fallen to pieces.

"I'll be back in a moment, Roma, you stay here."

Germany drowned out the conversation out with his own thoughts of Italy. He could feel Italy's worried gaze on him as his grip tightened around Italy's hand, willing himself not to just take off in a run with the Italian, leaving Spain and Romano alone, but he knew he couldn't.

"Luddy? Is everything okay? Are you worried about what's going to happen to us now?"

"Nothing's going to happen to us, Feliciano. I'm not worried."

"Good! We need you to be big and strong like usual!"

Ludwig was sure his heart was going to break, knowing that soon enough Italy wouldn't need him, that he wouldn't even have a choice to need him. He wasn't going to be there, not for a while at least.

"Of course, Feliciano."

"Hey, Luddy?"

"Yeah?"

"When this is over, we should get married!"

Germany choked on an intake of breath. "What?"

"We should get married! We could invite everyone!"

Germany glanced at Romano, who was trying his hardest not to look at the pair, then back down at Feliciano. "You know that's impossible. Marriage isn't our choice, it's up to our bosses."

"I don't mean a Germany-Italy marriage; I mean a Feliciano-Ludwig marriage. Nothing to do with our countries. Just me and you. Screw everyone else."

"Feliciano…"

"Come on! I want to be with you forever."

Germany smiled slightly, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red. "Are you actually proposing to me, Feliciano? Or is this all hypothetical."

Italy got down on one knee, ignoring the sudden yelling from his older brother. "Ludwig, after all of this is done, and the world is safe once again, will you marry me?"

Germany was about to answer when Spain joined them again. "All good?" He asked, glancing at Spain. They spoke about it for a few seconds, before Germany asked the two nations to give him and Italy a moment. Romano questioned it, but Spain managed to get him to walk off anyway.

"Germany?"

"I will marry you, Feliciano. As soon as this is over, we will get married."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Yay! We should kiss to make it official!"

He glanced at Spain and Romano, they had their backs to them, obviously in a slightly heated argument. "I suppose one kiss wouldn't hurt." He pulled the small Italian against him, almost as if he was trying to meld their bodies together, and pressed his lips to Feliciano's. Italy was on tiptoes, his arms around Germany's shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck. Germany's hands rubbed circles on Italy's waist. He pulled away sooner than he wanted, much to Italy's disappointment.

"Aw! We should kiss more!" Italy pouted.

"No time." Germany loosened his grip on Italy. "Spain, come on," he called. "I love you, don't forget that."

Italy tilted his head, a small frown on his face, before he grinned brighter than ever, his cheeks now as red as Germany's. "I love you too, Luddy!"

* * *

He watched as Italy was dragged away, trying to block out the screams the small Italian was permitting from his mouth. He could tell from the way Spain was shaking Italy was being a pain, wiggling as much as he could, trying to break free from Spain's captive grip.

Germany's eyebrows furrowed, Romano was running back towards him. He braced himself for a slap, or a punch, or some form of physical attack, but he was pleasantly surprised when Romano stopped in front of him, frowning his usual frown, but his eyes were soft.

"Bastard," he greeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable.

"You should go, Romano. They're waiting for you."

Romano shoved his gun towards Germany. "Take this."

"It's yours."

"I know that, bastard." Romano's cheeks reddened. "I want you to have it though. You need it more."

"I can't take this."

"Just fucking take it. You can give it back when you come back to my brother." He pushed the gun against Germany's chest. "And you better fucking come back to him. If you don't, I'll kill you myself."

Ludwig took the gun, and the ammo Romano had also shoved towards him. "I'll come back to him."

Romano cast his gaze to his feet. "Please, don't get yourself killed," he mumbled, twisting his hands together. "Bastard."

"I won't. Now, go. Tell Feliciano I'm sorry."

"He'll know."

Germany nodded. "Go, Romano."

"Bye, Ludwig."

Germany's eyes shot open in surprise. Romano had never referred to him as his human name, and he didn't think he ever would. "Bye, Lovino."

Romano waved slightly before he took off in a run towards the boat Spain and Italy were settling into. Or more, Spain was settling into, cradling a squirming Italy against him.

* * *

The rest of the goodbyes were a blur to Germany. One minute the boat was in view, the next it was gone. He was alone. Fully alone. It had been a long time since Germany had truly felt like he was alone. He ran his fingers over the gun Lovino had given him. He'd have been lying if he said Romano's kindness hadn't surprised him.

"I'll be with you soon, Italy. I promise," he mumbled to himself, turning on his heel and heading back towards the town they'd come from.

He got through the walk a lot faster without Italy being silly around them, and Spain and Romano arguing about God knows what. He made it back to the place they'd called base in record time. Germany pulled his phone from his pocket, as he leaned against the large door. After his phone had booted up, he dialled his brother's number.

" _West! How are you?"_

"I'm okay. How're things in Germany? Or Spain?"

" _Germany's doing okay, the cases are doubling by the day, but other than that it's good. Spain on the other hand is fine. Surprisingly, despite being almost neighbours, Spain has very few cases."_

"So it's safe?"

" _Well, for now. I can't say it'll be safe for long though, they have had cases." Prussia paused. "Are you coming home, West?"_

"No. I'm still in Italy."

" _Don't call me in such positions, West."_

Germany cheeks heated. "You know fully well I mean the country. I don't have the time for your crude jokes."

" _How's everyone else?"_

"Last I saw them, Romano was nice, Italy was sad and Spain, well I can't really read him."

" _Last time you saw them? What does that mean?"_

"I sent them away. They're on a long trip to Spain as we talk."

" _Why are you still in Italy then?"_

"There wasn't enough space on the boat."

" _So you just fucking stayed behind?"_

"Italy needed to be safe."

" _And what about you, West?"_

"I'll be fine. At least now I don't have three other people to worry about when fighting these monsters."

" _You're a fucking idiot. How could you just stay there? Italy isn't safe! The South is practically non-existent! There's more Zombies than there are people!"_

"I'm aware of this. Romano passed out, another reason they needed to leave. Romano wasn't strong enough, and soon Italy won't be either."

" _Bullshit! I don't have a country of my own, but I'm absolutely fine!"_

"You've stopped healing, Bruder. You're not fine."

" _Wha- What do you know about that?"_

"When Prussia was dissolved, you were tired all the time. You did little but sleep. You couldn't get out of bed, let alone fight. It took years for you to finally be at full strength again."

" _How did Italy take leaving you behind?"_ Prussia asked, changing the subject.

"I'd rather not think about that."

" _That well, eh?"_

"I should go; I want to save battery. I don't know when I'll be able to charge it again. I just called to let you know that I'm okay. If you want to see Italy, Romano and Spain, they should be docking in Spain at about this time tomorrow."

" _I want to see you."_

Germany sighed. "I want to see you too, Bruder. And I will. Soon. I'm going. Goodbye."

" _Bye, West. Stay safe."_

Germany hung up the phone, turned it off and shoved it back into his pocket. He leant his head backwards against the door, staring up into the darkness. He found himself wishing, for the first time, that this room had windows. A way of being able to see into the darkness. He'd thought about using the torch on his phone, but again, he wanted to save the battery.

Germany sat in silence, with only his thoughts to comfort him. His thoughts of once again being with Italy, thoughts of marriage, and a life outside of his country. An almost real life, something so different to his life as a country, something so foreign to him.

He fell asleep, a smile playing on his lips. They'd all survive this. He was sure of it.


	13. Chapter Twelve - North Italy

It had been a week since Feliciano had been forced out of Italy and away from his boyfriend. He hadn't spoken to either Spain or Romano, instead choosing to lock himself in the room Spain had given him at his home. Although, it wasn't like Romano was doing much talking anyway. It had been made obvious to them that the South of Italy had become nothing, almost as if it'd never existed. Romano had barely been able to get up over the past few days, having Spain wait on him hand and foot. Italy would have been lying if he said he hadn't been worried about his brother, but he stuck to his routine of ignoring the two men who had forced him to go to Spain without Germany.

"Italy, please come out of there, we need to talk about this," Spain called, knocking on the closed door. "You know I wouldn't have done it had I had a choice."

It was the fourth time that day Spain had come begging for forgiveness. Italy gritted his teeth, balling his hands into fists. He couldn't understand how Spain had the nerve to try to talk to him, after everything he'd done.

"Please, Italy. Your brother's not well, he really wants to see you."

It wasn't the first time Spain had used his brother to try to coax him out of his room, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. But still he ignored him, his hands fisted in the duvet on the bed he'd been sitting in almost constantly for a week.

* * *

 

Italy was woken late one night by a fit of coughs from the room next door. Lovino had been getting worse, his coughs becoming louder. Spain had stopped bugging Italy, instead spending his entire day at Lovino's side, trying his hardest to nurse him back to health. It didn't help that now Italy was feeling the effects of a country gone to shit. His own health deteriorating by the day.

Feliciano decided enough was enough. He struggled out of bed, wrapped his duvet around his body then made his way out of the borrowed room. He pushed open the door to Spain and Romano's room, not bothering to knock beforehand. Spain's head shot around to look at him.

"Italy?" He whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping Italian. "Is everything okay?"

"Is Romano going to die?"

Spain rubbed the cold flannel over Romano's burning skin. "Don't be silly, it's almost over for him. His fevers coming down, and he's sleeping less."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. He managed to get up for a few hours today. It was the most he'd walked since we got here two weeks ago."

"So he's going to be okay?"

"Absolutely." Spain laid the flannel over Romano's forehead, then turned his whole body towards Italy. "You hungry? I can make you something, I don't mind." A kind smile played on his lips.

"After how I've treated you?"

"I don't blame you."

"Why? I've been horrible to you. On purpose."

"In your place, I'd have been the same, Ita. Why don't we talk about this over food? You've barely eaten these past few weeks."

Italy smiled slightly. "Pasta?"

"If you want pasta, I'll make it. Anything for you."

"Okay!"

* * *

 

Spain and Italy settled down at the small table, plates of Spaghetti Bolognaise in front of them. They stayed silent through the first few mouthfuls, the only sounds that could be heard were the slurps of the pasta making its way to their mouths.

"Why'd you do it, Spain?" Italy finally asked, pushing his now empty plate away.

"Germany asked me to. He asked me to take you and Romano to safety." Spain sipped his glass of water. "Not that Spain is all the safe."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Things aren't good. Germany's not doing well, neither is England. It's only a matter of time until Spain falls too. Are you feeling weak?"

"Me? A little. I guess I'm more tired than usual."

"It's weird," Spain said, clearing the plates from the table.

"What is?"

"North Italy is just as bad as the South, but you seem fine. Or fine compared to Romano. Why aren't you being affected as much as he is?"

Italy shrugged. "Who knows?"

"Have you heard from Germany?"

"No. I suppose he's trying to save phone battery or something, either that or it's died. Not that he'd want to talk to me anyway."

"Ita? What makes you say that?"

"He sent me away. He was clearly sick of me. It's not surprising really."

"You couldn't be more wrong. It killed him letting you go. Killed him. I've never seen Germany cry, or his voice break as he talks. I've never seen him break down the way he did as I carried you away."

"He still made me leave."

"To protect you! He knew you'd be safer out of Italy."

Italy balled his fists at his side. "I'd have been safer with him," he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"I'd be fucking safer with him!" Italy screamed, smashing his fist down on the table. "Germany always protected me! We made a promise to one another and he's broken it!"

"I don't know anything about a promise, Italy, all I know is Germany's heart broke the minute he asked me to take you away."

"Screw him."

"You don't mean that, and you know it."

"What's going on?" Spain jumped at the sound of the third voice. Romano was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with the long sleeve of the shirt Spain had put him in earlier that night.

"Roma, what are you doing up?"

"I heard shouting. Vene, you're up?"

"I'm going to bed." Feliciano pushed his chair back angrily. "I'm glad you're not going to die, Romano," he said, putting a hand on Romano's shoulder before storming out of the room and back up to his bedroom. He slammed the door loudly behind him.

* * *

 

It had been a month since Italy had been forced out of Italy when Germany finally called him. Italy shot out of bed, phone pressed to ear as he waited for Germany to finally start talking.

_"Italy? Are you there?"_

"Germany!" He cried, all previous anger at the man disappearing into nothingness.

_"Hello, Italy. Are you doing well?"_

"I don't want to talk about me, let's talk about you. Are you safe? Have you been bitten? Why has it taken you so long to contact me? Are you still stuck in Italy? You haven't gone home have you? Germany's not doing well. You can still fight right?" He quick fired, not giving Germany a chance to answer.

_"Italy, Italy, calm down. One question at a time."_

"Are you safe?"

_"Relatively."_

"What does that mean?"

_"It means I'm as safe as I can be."_

"Good. Have you been bitten?"

_"No. I've had some close encounters, but I'm still fine."_

"Oh thank God."

_"What else do you want to know?"_

"Why has it taken you so long to contact me?"

_"I wanted to give you time to get over me forcing you out of the country. I've wanted to contact you for a while, I've only just plucked up the courage."_

"I haven't forgiven you for this, Germany."

_"Oh."_

"Are you still stuck in Italy?"

_"Yes. I've been staying at your house in Venice. It's been raided, and there's little to nothing here, but it's safe. I've seen no Zombies hanging around the property."_

"You're in Venice? Did you walk all the way to the North?"

_"No. I made my way back to Romano's cabin, there I hotwired his car and drove here. It wasn't easy though, the roads have been ripped up in places, and bodies are scattered around the streets, blood's everywhere. It isn't pretty. Nothing like Italy used to be."_

Italy involuntarily blushed. "You really loved my country didn't you?"

_"I did. Not so much anymore though. How are you feeling? How's Romano, and Spain?"_

"Romano's getting better, he'd been passed out almost continuously since we got to Spain, but he's been up a lot recently."

_"And you?"_

"I'm okay. Surprisingly, though I know Italy's pretty much fallen, I'm not feeling any different. I'm not tired all the time, nor do I feel weaker than usual."

 _"I'm glad to hear that."_ He heard Germany sigh. _"You're not giving Spain a hard time are you?"_

"I was, at first. But then we had to move from Spain's house, and into hiding if you will. He fought a bunch of Zombies, whilst I carried Romano. Since then I've been nicer to him, he really does want to protect us."

_"Is he okay?"_

"He was a little shaken up, we'd never faced so many at once, but he got over it once Romano was all sweet with him."

_"How's Spain doing? The country I mean."_

"Not good. It's not as bad as Germany, or Italy, but it's spreading fast. It went from barely being any cases to quarter of the country infected just over night."

_"How's Germany?"_

"Not good, Luddy. Can't you feel it? Prussia's fled to England, although I can't figure out why. England's practically nothing now. Just as bad as Italy."

_"Oh."_

"Are you going to come to Spain?"

_"Actually, yes. In a month's time there's a boat out of Venice. It's taking any survivors. Why it's taken so long to happen, I have no idea, but I'll be coming to Spain very soon, Italy."_

"I'm really happy to hear that. I've been lonely without you."

_"Me too, Feliciano."_

"Do you know where the boat's docking? I'll meet you there."

_"It's actually docking in France; I'll have to make my way to Spain from there."_

"You're going to walk from France, to Spain? How is that even possible?"

_"If I can't find a car, which I probably won't now, I'll have no choice. Trains have stopped running, especially between countries. I don't know how long it'll take, but I'll call you when I know I've arrived in Spain. I'll be heading towards Barcelona. You're still there, right?"_

Italy's mouth twitched into a frown. "No. Barcelona basically doesn't exist anymore, we're in Caceres or something."

 _"Does Spain have houses everywhere in Spain?"_ Germany asked in disbelief.

"I don't know, but we're not in one of Spain's houses. We're in a base camp, set in a church."

_"You're with other people?"_

"Yeah!" Italy grinned. "I've made some really nice friends!"

_"I'm glad. I must be going, say hello to Spain and Romano for me."_

"Do you have to go?"

_"I'm afraid so. I'll be seeing you soon, Feliciano."_

"Ve, okay. Bye, Luddy."

_"Bye, Feliciano."_

As soon as Germany hung up the phone, the tears started. He'd waited so long to hear from Germany, he'd almost thought the nation was gone. Although short, he was glad to have heard from him. Glad that he was relatively safe. Spain wrapped an arm around the shaking Italian.

"What's wrong, Ita?"

"Germany. He's alive. He's okay, Spain."

"You've heard from him?"

"Sì. Just got off the phone to him actually."

"That explains the crying. Where is he?"

"In Venice. He's getting on a boat to France in a month, should be here soon."

"Let's hope we don't have to move out before then, eh?"

"Sì."

* * *

 

Italy was woken early one morning to the sound of hushed, yet angry voices. He squeezed his eyes shut, and listened as well as he could.

"Spagna, we can't do this."

"Why? It's not like it makes a difference to anyone else."

"I think you're forgetting about my little brother, do you really think he'd agree to move on from here, knowing his potato is coming back?"

"He can easily contact Germany from wherever we end up. Perhaps we could make our way to France? It's not safe here, Romano. Have you not noticed day by day the group of people here is thinning out? More people are dying, which means more Zombies. We need to leave before it's too late."

"Too late? Listen to yourself! No one is dying. Not you, not me, not my little brother. None of us. Yes, I have noticed that fewer people are coming back with every supply group, but that's not really our problem."

"Of course it's our problem! How do we know we can trust these people? What if one of them has been bitten, and is keeping it from us?"

"I don't like this new attitude, Spagna."

"It comes with the end of the world I'm afraid."

"Well stop it. You're supposed to be making me feel better, not worse."

"How can I make anyone feel better?" Spain choked out. Italy heard a quiet thump, as if someone had fallen to their knees. "How can I comfort you, or your brother, if I can't even make myself believe that everything's going to be okay?"

"Oh, Antonio."

Italy risked opening his eyes, almost feeling that he was intruding on the moment. Romano's arms wrapped tightly around Spain, holding his shaking body tightly to his chest. Spain's hands fisted in the dirty t-shirt Romano was wearing, clearly crying. Romano too was crying, his head resting against Spain's head, the tears falling into the greasy mess of hair. Italy closed his eyes again, feeling uncomfortable at seeing his brother, and Spain, so weak. So broken.

"We'll leave in the morning, okay? Even if we have to drag that damn brother of mine by the hair."

Spain's shaky sobs were quieter now, almost gone. "Are you sure? I think we've both had enough of Feliciano's wrath to last us a lifetime," Spain joked, though his words laced with the pain he'd felt from being so brutally rejected by the younger Italian.

"I think we'll manage. Together."

"Together."

Italy cracked an eye open. Spain was smiling again, whilst Romano peppered light kisses across his cheeks, a small smile of his own on his lips. Italy was happy to see Romano so lively, so happy. HE didn't think he'd ever really realised just how much his brother appreciated the Spanish man, or how much he truly loved him.

"You really think he'd going to be against moving?" Romano asked after a while.

"As long as we can get hold of Germany, no. I think he's got a bit bored of this place, I think he may agree moving on is what's best."

"I hope you're right. Jokes aside, I don't ever want to see my brother as sad as he was after we left Italy."

"I know, Roma. I know."

Italy watched as Romano climbed into Spain's lap, straddling him. "Am I heavy?"

"Is this really the place to be initiating sex, mi amor?"

"I'm not initiating anything!" Romano blushed, slapping Spain's shoulder. "I just wanted to sit on you for a while, for comfort purposes."

"Sì. Sì."

* * *

 

Italy didn't get much sleep that night, staying awake long after Romano and Spain had fallen asleep, in what he couldn't imagine was a very comfortable position. Italy couldn't decide his thoughts on leaving, sure, he was bored. Seeing the same thing day in and day out was never fun, but it was also the safest he'd felt since Germany.

He stared over at his brother, still in Spain's lap, his arms around his shoulders and head resting on Spain's chest. As cute as he found the scene though, he couldn't help but feel jealous. Why did they get to be all happy, and clingy, whilst he was alone? Whilst he had no one, no one to hold him at night with whispers that everything was going to be okay.

Italy sighed, pushing the scratchy covers from his body, and standing up. He stretched out his limbs, enjoying the loud popping of his bones with every muscle he stretched out. From what he could tell everyone was still sleeping, so he grabbed his gun from his belongings, and headed out of the bunker.

With summer drawing in, it was a warm morning. The birds sung loudly in the trees, as if nothing was wrong. As if the world wasn't in turmoil over the creatures that had invaded, practically sucking the life out of humans. Italy sat down, his back against the brick walls, his gun never leaving his hands.

If this situation had taught Italy anything, it was to never leave yourself unguarded. Always have your back covered, and a weapon in hand. Who knew when danger would pop out from the most unexpected places?

Italy hummed along with the birds, for the first time in a long time, feeling at peace. He thought back over the last month. He'd sure grown up, gotten stronger too. Italy knew he wasn't weak, really it was mostly a front so if he did screw up, he'd have an excuse. But the last month had taught Italy that there was no time for screwing up, one wrong move could get him, or worse Spain or Romano, killed.

He remembered the first kill he made, he remembered aiming the gun at the Zombie, his tear filled eyes making it hard to see, but he swallowed down all fear and shot, hitting the monster directly in the head. Spain, who the Zombie had been approaching, fell to his knees, breathing heavily. It wasn't his fault, Spain's gun had run out of ammo, he had tried to protect them both. Still, after he'd knocked the last Zombie down, and once Spain had come back to his senses, both Spain and Romano flung themselves at the younger Italian. He'd felt proud.

He managed to kill quite a few Zombies after that, with each bullet, he became stronger. With each kill, he found it easier to get past the fact that these Zombies were people, under the deathly grey faces, and the peeling flesh, they were people, just like him. Humans with a family, a life before this horror. He guessed that was something not a lot of people seemed to remember. He'd seen lots of people kill the things, not a hint of guilt behind the kills.

Italy was pulled out of his thoughts by a low moaning and obvious shuffling of wrecked shoes across the concrete floor. He shot to his feet, holding the gun out in front of him. He could see them, four or five, making their way towards the bunker. He moved quickly, climbing onto the top of the church, settling into a flat surface, hidden from view. Not that it really mattered, when the things could smell you, it doesn't matter where you hide. Italy pointed his gun, readying himself to shoot when they got close enough to the small church they called a base. He found he was almost not scared as the things staggered ever closer, their horrific moaning echoing in the empty street.

Italy was about to shoot his first bullet when he heard the tell-tale sounds of the door opening, his name being called then a loud scream. That was followed by a long string of curses, and another person appearing on the rooftop, his chest heaving.

"Veneziano, thank God," he muttered, settling himself beside his brother. "Don't leave the bunker without informing the tomato bastard or myself."

Italy shushed him, before aiming his gun at the first Zombie. He pulled the trigger, successfully hitting his target. It wasn't long before all Zombie's lay dead in a pile, blood splattering the floor. Italy let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

"Romano, you should know better than to leave without a weapon. Where's Spain?"

"Don't tell me off, little brother. _You_ should know better than to leave without informing someone."

"I just needed air. The bunker's too stuffy." Italy thought back to the conversation he'd been eavesdropping on. "I'm not sure how much longer I can stay in there, Romano. It's driving me crazy."

"Really? You want to leave?"

"Well, yes." Italy was lying of course, he liked the bunker. He was surrounded by nice people, who had all played a part in keeping the nation safe, but he wanted, no needed, to do this for his brother and Spain. "There's not much hope of that though."

"Come on, let's go talk to Spagna. Explain the situation."

Italy and Romano clambered off the church roof, and headed back inside, only sparing a glance at the dead bodies just a few feet away. When back inside, the current residents surrounded them, checking for injuries, and asking lots of questions. Spain pushed through the small crowd, throwing his arms over the two Italian nations when he reached them.

"Oh, gracias a Dios! I tried to get out but they blocked my way!" Spain glared at the humans surrounding them, causing them to back away and give the three nations space.

"Get off! We're fine!" Romano pushed at Spain's arms, releasing himself from the man's iron grip.

"You didn't get bitten?"

"Nope! We were on the roof!" Italy beamed. "I killed them all, Spain!"

"I'm glad, Ita. Roma, you're not hurt? When I heard you scream I instantly thought the worst."

"Nope. Other than my pride, I'm fine."

"Pride?"

"Once again, bested by my little brother. Should've seen in coming really."

"Lovi, is now really the time for comparisons?"

Lovino pouted, his arms crossed over his chest. "No. I'm proud of my little brother." He ruffled Italy's hair, before turning back to Spain. "We all need to talk. Come outside with us?"

"Okay, but is everything okay?"

"I'll let Vene explain."

As soon as they made it outside Spain glanced down at the bodies lying in front of the base, his eyes widening. "You killed all of these by yourself?" He asked, his eyes never leaving the bodies, as if they'd come back again.

Italy nodded, a proud smile on his face. "Sì!"

"Well done, Ita." Spain finally removed his gaze from the bodies, and to the two Italians. "So, what's up?"

"I think we should move out. Go elsewhere."

Spain raised his eyebrows, and glanced at Romano momentarily, who just shrugged. "Really?"

"Sì. I thought we could head towards France, find somewhere there to set up things until Germany gets there. I don't want to wait so long to see him."

"Are you sure? I mean it's a big decision to make."

"I'm sure. This place is getting boring anyway."

"Are you okay with this, Roma?"

"Sì. It'll be good for all of us to get away from here."

"Then we'll leave this afternoon. Ita, pack our things, and say your goodbyes. Lovi and I will go and try to scavenge some supplies."

"We will?"

Spain grinned at the elder Italian. "Sì, we will. Ita, we'll be back in an hour or so."

"Okay, be careful." Italy hugged the two nations, before they set off down the path, weapons held tightly in their hands.

* * *

 

Italy packs away the few belongings they had, folding everything into the two backpacks they'd brought from Spain's house. He hummed as he went, each thing disappearing into the pack.

"Feliciano?" He turned on his heel at the small voice.

"Ruby, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Okay now, thank you. Are you going somewhere?"

"Sì, my friends and I are starting a journey to France today." Italy grinned, the thoughts of seeing big brother France's place for the first time in ages. "A very good friend of mine will be there soon, and I want to be able to greet him!"

"Is that Ludwig?"

"Sì! How do you know about him?"

"You talk in your sleep. Or more, cry in your sleep. Antonio and Lovino told everyone not to bring it up. Speaking of, I shouldn't have said that." The girl looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise, bella!"

The girl blushed, hair falling around her face. "He must be very special to you."

"He is. Ludwig has been there for me for so long, it's hard to imagine my life without him."

"You don't talk about him much when you're awake."

Feliciano frowned. "It hurts. Or at least, it did. You see, until last week I had no idea if he was alive or not. Now I know he is, it's easier to say his name without wanting to cry."

"I'm glad he's alive. So, you'll be leaving us?"

"Sì. This afternoon."

"Oh. Wait here," the girl said, turning on her heel to walk away. She returned minutes later, her hands held behind her back.

"Everything okay, Ruby?"

"I want you to take this." She handed him a small sketch book, some writing pencils and a lined pad. "It's not much, but it'll give you something to do when you're bored."

"I can't take these, Ruby! You need them more than I do!"

"Actually, I've had them a while, I never used them though. It'd be a waste keeping them here collecting dust. Take them."

Italy took the objects. "Grazie."

"Maybe one day we'll meet again and you can show me your drawings."

"Sì!"

Ruby wrapped her arms around the Italian. "Be safe out there, Feliciano. Don't make Ludwig have to miss you too much."

He held her close. "You stay safe here. After this is over, I want to introduce you to Luddy."

"I'd love to meet him."

"Good!"

* * *

 

That afternoon, the small group of three left the bunker, bags full, and spirits almost high. Before they'd left the occupants had spared them some extra food, not taking no for an answer when the nations tried to turn down the generous gift.

"This is going to be a long journey, you're aware of that right?" Spain asked as he shifted the weight of the backpack.

"Sì. I'm hoping we can find a car, as this part of Spain isn't so bad."

"Ita, we don't know how bad this part of Spain is, we haven't gone further than a few feet outside of the bunker since we arrived."

"You'd know. You can feel it right?"

"Well, yes."

"Then, Spagna, how is Spain?"

"Other than Barcelona, and surrounding places, Spain is fine. Doesn't mean we'll be able to find a car, or petrol for that matter. Just keep in mind that we may have to walk all the way to France."

"You think we'll even be allowed into France?"

"I don't know. I don't really know how France is. Last I heard France himself had gone to England's aid near the beginning."

"Big brother France went to England?"

"Sì. He cares about the guy."

"Fuck knows why," Romano mumbled.

"They have a long history, Roma. It's only natural France would be worried about him."

"You have a long history with the eyebrows bastard, are you worried about him?"

"Sì. England and I may have had a bad past, but that doesn't mean I want him to die or anything!"

"I personally don't care if the twat dies or not. All I care about is us surviving."

"That's not nice, Roma."

"I'm not being paid to be nice."

"Well, you're not being paid to be mean either."

"Yes, thanks for that, Spagna."

"Do you think Germany will be happy to see us?" Italy piped up, swinging his arms back and forth.

"He'll be thrilled to see you, Ita. It's going to have been over two months by the time you see him again, he's going to be so happy. Maybe he'll even smile!"

"Don't count on it, the potato bastard isn't capable of smiling."

"That's not true, Romano! Luddy smiles at me all the time!"

"What Romano means to say is, of course he's going to smile."

"I know what I bloody well mean, Spagna."

Spain ruffled Romano's hair. "Of course you do, Roma."


	14. Chapter Thirteen - South Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked it up, and it would take approximately eight days of constant walking to get to France from Spain. The more you know, eh?

Italy walked ahead, his gun held out in front of him, ready for attack. They'd been walking for a few hours, everything about Italy hurt, but he wouldn't stop. The sooner he got to France, the sooner they could find somewhere safe to stay until Germany finally joined them again.

Italy looked over his shoulder at the two others, Romano was draped over Spain's back, snoring quietly. Spain smiled at him, but even his brightest smile couldn't hide his fatigue. Spain was spent, he ached from holding Romano, and a heavy bag.

"Spain?" Italy called, stopping to wait up for them.

"Sí?"

"Want me to take Romano? I don't mind."

Spain shifted the Italian on his back, cringing slightly at the weight. "No, that's okay. You have your own luggage."

"Romano isn't luggage. You could always make him walk himself."

"You know; we could always take a break."

"No! We need to get to France."

"Italy," Spain started, readjusting his gun in his grip. "Us getting to France isn't going to make you see Germany sooner. We could get there in two weeks and Germany still wouldn't be there. We can't keep walking constantly. We'll die before we even get the chance to meet back up with him."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do. If we're too tired to run, or too sleep-deprived to aim our guns, how do you expect us to live? Romano's tired, so are you and so am I. Let's find somewhere to stop for the night. Besides, it's getting dark. We're at a disadvantage if we can't even see."

Italy crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. Fine we can stop."

"Thank you. I saw something back there that would be good shelter, let's go."

"You mean we're backtracking? Are you insane?"

"It's for the best. Please, Italy. It's not going to make much of a difference."

"Fine. Let's go."

Spain turned on the spot, ready to walk back, but quickly turned back to Italy. "Actually, you know what?"

"What?" Italy noted the scared expression he held.

"We should keep going. What's the use of walking back the way we came, I'm sure there's somewhere up ahead to stay for the night."

Italy just nodded, knowing there was a reason for Spain's expression. "We should wake Romano; he's not going to sleep tonight if he stays asleep."

"You're right." Spain moved Romano around his body, waking him in the process. "Come on, Roma, you need to walk on your own for a little while."

"I dun' wanna," he mumbled, gripping Spain's shoulders and tightening his legs around Spain's waist.

"Fratello, stop being lazy. Spain and I have been walking non-stop, and in Spain's case with your added weight. Stand up."

"Spagna?"

"Please, Roma. Just get down, you're not a child anymore."

Romano pinched Spain's shoulder. "Screw you." He unhooked his legs, and dropped to the floor. "I'm perfectly capable of walking myself, you're just easy to manipulate."

"We should hurry up; it's getting dark fast. Romano walk in front of me so I can keep an eye on you."

"Haven't you already told me I'm not a child?"

"Just do it."

Romano rolled his eyes, but still moved to walk ahead of Spain. As soon as he was in front of him, Spain began tapping on his back. Romano was readying himself to yell at Spain when he realised what he was doing. Romano concentrated on the morse being written on his back.

W-E-A-R-E-B-E-I-N-G-F-O-L-L-O-W-E-D

Romano eyes widened, and his grip on his gun tightened.

K-E-E-P-M-O-V-I-N-G

Romano nodded his head slightly, to show Spain he got the message. He grabbed his brother's hand, stopping him from straying too far ahead. He began to tap the message on to his little brother's hand. "Vene, don't even think about going on ahead," Romano said, squeezing his hand before dropping it. "Knowing you you'd get yourself lost."

"What should we do?" Italy asked. "You know, when we get to France?"

"We shouldn't run, it wastes too much energy," Spain replied, gulping. His sense of dread multiplying with each dim of the sky.

"It's best to keep things slow, right?"

"Right."

"Oh look," Italy said, pointing towards a large building. "I think it's a school! We can stay there for the night!"

"Good thinking, Ita."

The three walked the rest of the way, hearts pounding in their chests and fear running through their veins. Romano's shoulder were hunched, his gun clenched tight. While Spain kept his hand on Romano's shoulder, trying his hardest to comfort the elder Italian.

"It's not locked, that's a good thing."

"Come on!" Italy shoved the doors open, and pulled the small group in. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Spain dragged the two Italians through the narrow corridor searching for somewhere to hide out.

It wasn't long before the loud bang of the door being pushed open forcefully. Italy whimpered, clinging to Spain's arm. Spain put a finger to his lips, signalling silence.

"In here," Romano whispered, pulling their attention to a small cupboard. Spain nodded, pushing the two nations into the small space, then got in himself, making sure to shield them both if someone happened to open the door. Romano gripped the back of Spain's shirt, tears of fear rolling down his face.

"No sign on the bottom floor!" They heard a gruff voice shout.

"Search the next floor then! They have to be here somewhere!" Two pairs of footsteps passed the small space. "They can't have disappeared!"

"Could've snuck out the back," another voice said.

"Just get looking!"

Soon enough it was silent again, the footsteps having retreated down the hall.

"Oh God," Italy whimpered, letting his head drop against Spain's shoulder. "What do you think they want from us?"

"Considering they were following us, I can't imagine it's anything good," Spain replied. "Are you both okay?"

Romano just nodded, and wiped away the escaped tears.

"What should we do?"

"Kill them." Spain shrugged, turning around in the small space to face them. "It's the only option."

"We can't do that."

"Ita, do you really think we'll get out of here alive? It's kill or be killed."

"Don't say shit like that, Spagna."

"You two wait here, okay? I'll come and get you when it's over."

"Don't you dare leave me here, bastard!"

"I don't want either of you getting hurt, so stay here."

Romano crossed his arms over his chest. "If you get yourself killed, I'll never forgive you."

"I know, Lovi." Spain pressed a chaste kiss to Romano's cheek. "Look after each other."

"Good luck, Spain," Italy said, a small sad smile playing on his lips. "We'll be okay. I promise."

Italy and Romano watched as Spain opened the door and popped his head around it to check if the coast was clear. When he was satisfied that no one was around, he smiled at the two Italians once more before slipping out and closing the door quietly behind him.

Romano gripped his brother's hand, his heart racing. He couldn't stop the worries running through his mind. _What if Spain didn't come back? What if he died? What if he never got to see him again?_ Italy sensed Romano's worries, so he squeezed his hand, sending silent reassurances. For once, Romano was glad his brother was there.

They stood in silence for what seemed like hours, just waiting for Spain to open the door and tell them that the bad men were gone. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. A few minutes after Spain left them, they heard a loud scream.

"That sounded like Spain!" Romano exclaimed, pulling his hand out of Italy's and shoving the door open.

"Romano, where are you going?!" Italy shouted.

Romano stopped for a second, turning back to his little brother. "Stay in the cupboard, don't move!" Then he took off running, following the sounds of gunshots. All fear forgotten. He took the stairs three at a time, desperate to find his boyfriend. He sprinted down corridors, until the gunshots were deafening.

"Romano! Get out of here!" He heard Spain before he saw him, but didn't get a chance to respond as white hot pain spread through his body. Romano fell to the floor, blood spreading out around him. He wanted to shout, to scream, but he couldn't. Words had been ripped from his throat from the pain. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, the pain unbearable.

"You bastard!" He heard Spain scream, followed by several gunshots. Romano slipped out of consciousness as the final man fell to the floor dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this chapter isn't my best. I knew what I wanted to happen, I just couldn't get it out well enough. It doesn't flow brilliantly, and no matter how many times I changed the wording, I just couldn't sort that out.
> 
> Sorry for the short chapter, I'm hoping next chapter will make up for this subpar one.


	15. Chapter Fourteen - Spain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I want to warn you; I have no idea how being shot can affect you. Nor how to remove a bullet from a wound. I wanted to research it, but the thought makes me want to vomit (I'm very squeamish with shit like that). Just don't take what's written to heart, it's just made up shit.
> 
> Just to clarify, when there's the '…' in Romano's speech, it's him pausing to either swallow or breathe out between speaking.

Spain breathed out heavily as the last of the men fell to the floor, blood surrounding them in puddles. But he wasn't done, the angry Spaniard glanced once at Romano, as he clambered on top of the dead man. He began throwing punches, feeling the bones under his fists cracking. He didn't stop until the face was unrecognisable and blood was pouring from every part of his face.

"Sp…a…in," Romano mumbled, cracking his eyes open slightly. Spain's head spot towards him, then quickly rushed to his side.

"Lovi. It's going to be okay, stay with me okay?" Spain wiped his bloody hands on his clothes, lifted Romano's shirt to see the hole in his hip, then ripped some of his shirt, pressing it on the wound. Romano groaned, weakly lifting his arms to push the painful pressure away, but quickly dropped his arms. "Where's your brother?"

"D-Down…stairs."

"Okay. Okay, let's go and get him."

"I-" Romano coughed, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. "C…a…n't walk."

"Oh God. You're bleeding a lot, please don't die Roma." Spain couldn't stop the sob passing through his lips as he held the wound on Romano's hip. "Stay awake, okay? Don't go to sleep."

"It h…urts." Romano's voice was cracked and broken, pain clear as he spoke.

"How about you stay here, I'll run and get Ita, okay?" Spain wiped at the sweat running down Romano's forehead. "No, I can't do that. I can't leave you."

"There's no need to go anywhere, I have who you're looking for right here." Spain's head shot in the direction of the voice.

"Feliciano!"

A large man held him, arm around his throat and a gun to his head.

"Romano!" Italy screamed, struggling in the man's arms. "What happened?!"

"Let him go," Spain growled, his bloody fingers trembling around the gun he was now holding. "I swear to God, let him go."

"Not a chance. You have some stuff I want."

"Roma, I'll be right back, okay?" He whispered, running his fingers through Romano's hair once more. He then stood up, his gun pointed at the man holding Feliciano.

"Put the gun down, or he gets it in the head."

Italy whimpered, his eyes closing tightly.

"You see this?" Spain pointed at the three dead men, the blood pooling around them all. "I did this. Myself. And trust me, if you don't let the kid go, I will not hesitate to give you the same treatment." Spain took a step forwards. "If you let him go, you can walk out of here. Unscathed. I'll even give you some food, just let him go."

"Put the gun down."

Spain held his hands up, bent over and placed the gun on the floor. "Your turn. Put your own gun down, and you can walk away."

"As if I would be so stupid." Italy screamed as a gun shot rang around the hall, but he didn't fall, instead the man fell to the floor, a hole in his head, blood pouring onto the floor around Italy's feet. Spain spun on his heel to look at Romano, who was once again passed out, the gun dropped out of his limp hand.

"Roma!" Spain dropped to his knees, picking Romano's head up again. "Ita, are you okay?"

"Sí." He got down on his knees beside them, taking Romano's limp hand in his own. "Is he dead?"

"No. We need to get him first aid though. He won't survive if we stay here."

"He's a nation though!"

"Not anymore, Ita. Your country is gone, you're both mortal now."

"Why are we just sitting here then?"

Spain got to his feet. "It shouldn't be hard to find a nurse's office around here." He scooped Romano's body in his arms. "Come on, we need to get him help."

* * *

 

Spain laid Romano's body down on one of the small cots. "Check all of the cupboards. I'm going to have to remove the bullet, I need tweezers or something. Also, bandages, something to clean the wound, preferably water, but anything will do really, something to clean the wound and you know what, more bandages." Italy nodded his head, then began rummaging through the many cupboards in the large nurse's office. Spain sat down on the bed beside Romano. "You're going to be okay, I promise, Lovi," Spain said, pushing Romano's greasy hair from his face. "Get me some scissors too."

Spain held Romano's hand, his thumb rubbing over the other's hand.

"I got everything." Italy placed the items on the table beside the bed. "I'm going to stand outside, I'm not sure I can watch this."

"I need you in here, Feli. If he wakes up, he's going to be in agony. I want you to hold his hand, comfort him. I need both of my hands."

"But it's going to be gross!"

"You're not the one who has to dig around in his chest with a pair of tweezers, shut up and take his hand. You can close your eyes if it's such a nuisance."

Italy bit his lip, but complied. He knelt down on the floor beside the bed, and took Romano's hand firmly in his own. "Be careful."

"We need to get his shirt off," Spain said, fingering the hem of Romano's blood stained shirt. "I'm going to have to cut it."

"But he'll get cold."

"We have some extra clothes in one of the bags, go and find them for me, please?"

"I thought you wanted me here."

"Italy!" He snapped, glaring at him. "Go and get the bags for me."

Spain picked the scissors from the table. "Don't worry, Roma. I'll try to make this hurt as little as possible." He began cutting the shirt up the middle. "Oh God." Spain lent forwards to press a chaste kiss to Romano's forehead. "I wish the damn bullet had gone through," he muttered, wiping some wet cloth over the bloody wound.

"Wouldn't that be worse?" Italy asked, walking back into the room, two bags hung over his shoulders. "Surely he'd hurt more."

"In a way, yes, but I also wouldn't have to remove the bullet." Spain swallowed. "Which really isn't a pleasant thing to do. Can you pass me the tweezers, please?"

Italy handed him the tweezers. "You speak like you've done it before."

"I have. From your brother actually."

"Really?"

Spain chuckled slightly. "Yeah, during my civil wars back before World War Two."

"Oh, yeah. He helped you didn't he?"

"Yeah. He really did." Spain grimaced as he moved the tweezers towards the hole. "Hold his hand, this is going to be painful for him."

Italy nodded, gripping Romano's hand tightly in his own. He was glad Romano was still passed out, he couldn't even begin to imagine how painful it was for him. Spain pushed the tweezers into the small hole, cringing at the blood that had started to flow from the wound again. Italy whimpered as Romano's hand tightened around him, and a pained scream emitted from his throat.

"Mi amor, shush, it's going to be okay," Spain said, using his free hand to rub circles on Romano's thigh. "It's almost out, I can feel it." Romano cried out loudly, but otherwise didn't move. Spain wasn't sure if it was because he was in too much pain, or he just didn't want to be difficult, but he appreciated it.

"Fratello, calm down." Italy's voice was soothing, his hand wiping away the escaped tears from Romano's cheeks.

"Got it," Spain muttered, slowly removing the tweezers from the wound. "There, it's out," he said, once again wiping a cloth over the small hole.

"T...tha…nks," Romano breathed out heavily. "B-bas…tard."

"Anytime." Spain stuck a pad over the hole. "I need you to help me lift his hips, Ita."

"No!" Romano screamed, his face contorting in pain.

"We need to, Roma, to wrap it. Your hip is shattered; it needs tight wrapping."

"Shattered?" Italy asked, pulling his hand from his brother's.

"Yes. Badly. It's probably why he's in so much pain."

"He can move though, right?"

"No. Not yet, at least. He needs to stay right here, and let himself heal."

"But Germany!"

"Seriously? Your brother has been shot, his hip shattering in the process, and all you're worried about it getting to Germany? He's not even going to be in France for a few weeks. Don't be so selfish, Italy."

"You can help him walk!"

"Yeah? What about if we're ambushed, or more selfish humans try to kill us for our supplies? How do you expect me to protect you both when Lovi can't even stand on his own two feet?" Spain glanced over his shoulder, Romano had fallen back asleep, dried tear tracks covered his cheeks. "I thought you cared about your brother more than that." Spain picked up the large roll of bandages. "Make yourself useful and go search the place."

"But-"

"Go."

* * *

 

Spain sat on a chair beside the small cot, his hand rubbing circles on Romano's exposed stomach, carefully avoiding touching anywhere near the bullet wound. Romano's breathing was steady, his face pulled into a grimace. Spain was glad Romano was sleeping, but couldn't help his worry about what was to come. There was no way Romano would be about to walk for a few weeks at least, not with his left hip being shattered.

"I got some tinned food," Italy said, his voice low as he walked back into the room. "Some more clothes too. I don't know if they'll fit any of us, but I thought I'd get them just in case."

Spain didn't take his gaze from Romano's pained face. "Thanks. Why don't you go and make sure the doors are all locked, we don't want any unwelcome people wandering in. Then get some sleep, it's been a long day."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"He's going to be fine. Romano's strong, he'll get through this." Spain wasn't sure who he was trying to comfort more, Italy or himself. Sure, Romano had been shot before, hell he'd died before, but this was different. Romano was mortal now; his country was gone. "Now go, before it's too late."

Italy dropped the bag of supplies on the floor then left the room, his shoulders hunched and phone clasped tightly in his hand.

"S-Spag..na?"

"Lovi, you're awake!" Spain exclaimed, his hands moving to cup Romano's face. "How much pain are you in? I gave you the strongest pain medication I could find, but is it enough?"

"It f…eels b-better," he replied, shifting slightly to lean more into Spain's touch.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired?"

Romano nodded his head weakly, licking his dried lips. "T-thirsty."

Spain scrambled from his chair to grab the half empty bottle of water from the bag. "I'm going to help you sit up, okay?" Spain said, settling back into his chair. "It's going to hurt."

"Just d-do it bastard."

Spain smiled as he put his hands under Romano's arms to lift him up slightly. Romano wanted to scream, the pain from his hip shooting through his entire body, but his bit his lip and let himself be shifted.

"Goddammit," Romano muttered, breathing heavily.

"Can you hold the bottle yourself?"

"Yes." Romano shakily took the bottle from Spain, and pressed it to his lips. "Is this the only… water left?"

"No, you can finish it," Spain answered, knowing exactly what Romano had actually wanted to ask. "Besides, we can just fill the bottles here, it's a school after all."

Romano nodded before downing the water. "What happened to… the-the bastard… that shot me?"

"He's dead, Roma. They all are. You even helped." Spain ruffled Romano's hair, chuckling at Romano's weak attempts at swatting away his hands, then helped him back into a lying position. "If it wasn't for you, I think your brother would be dead."

"D-don't say shit like that." Romano's voice was more level now, and his breathing normal.

"I was stupid. I trusted that man to not hurt him, I put my guard down, dropped my gun and just left him to die."

Romano reached out, and placed a hand on Spain's knee. "You thought you were… doing what was best."

Spain's face darkened, an evil glint in his eye. "Humans can't be trusted, Lovi. That's a fact. From now on, it's us against them."

"Don't be stupid, Antonio." Romano coughed, wincing at the movement. "Just because some twats… tried to hurt us, d-doesn't mean they're all like it."

"Tried? Lovi, you got shot! Your hip is broken, and you can't move without assistance. Even if your healing does still work, it's going to be slow. That man could have killed you!"

"But he didn't. You were there, and you looked after me. Like you always have."

"I killed him, Lovi."

"I know, I saw."

"No, I mean, brutally. I punched him repeatedly, not caring when I could feel his bones shattering under my knuckles, I enjoyed watching the blood cascade from his nose, his mouth, his eyes. I _enjoyed_ it. It made me feel powerful, strong." Spain looked down at Romano, whose eyes had fluttered shut once again, but his breathing told Spain he was still awake. "Are you scared of me, Lovi?"

"No." Romano opened his eyes again. "Not once in my life have I ever been scared of you. Not when I was a child and you'd come home covered in blood, whether it was yours or someone else's, not now, you have never scared me, because I know… you'll never hurt me. And frankly." Romano coughed lightly. "Frankly that's all that matters."

"I scared myself. I don't think I'd have stopped punching him, you know. It was only because you called me that I stopped the hammering into his face."

"You were… protecting me. Giving that bastard what he deserved." Romano yawned, his eyes closing again.

"Go back to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up."

"C-cuddle with me, b-bastard," Romano demanded, his face heating up.

Spain smiled, large and happy, "Of course, Lovi, anything for you." He climbed onto the small bed beside Romano, curling up against the Italian's side, carefully avoiding where the bullet had pierced his skin. "Te amo, mi corazón," Spain said, his lips pressed lightly to Romano's shoulder.

"Ti amo, Antonio. Ti amo."


	16. Chapter Fifteen - North Italy

Italy sat with his back against the wall in one of the many empty classrooms. He was tired, and out of breath from running around the school making sure all the doors were well blocked so no one unwanted or unwelcome could get in. He had debated with himself about whether or not to go back to the nurse's office, and sleep in one of the beds there, but decided Spain probably didn't want him there.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sudden vibrating of his phone in his pocket. Italy hurried to pull it out, smiling brightly when he saw the name that had come up on the screen.

"Luddy!" He answered, all thoughts of his brother and Spain vanishing from his brain.

" _Hello, Feliciano,"_ Ludwig replied.

"How are you?"

There was a slight pause before Germany spoke up again _. "I'm fine, what about you? Spain? Romano?"_

"I'm okay. Spain's freaking out though."

" _Why?"_

"Romano got shot."

" _What?"_

"Some guys were following us, we came into this school where they attacked Spain, Romano was trying to help, but he got shot."

" _Is he going to be okay?"_

"Spain says his hip is shattered, and that he won't be able to walk on his own, so we're stuck here."

" _Stuck where?"_

"I don't know, some school in Spain. We were making our way up to France, but we didn't get far."

" _You were coming to France?"_

"Yeah, to meet with you. Thought it was easier than having you walk all the way to Spain after crossing across the whole of Italy."

" _I see. There's actually a few reasons I called you."_

"Yeah? What is it, Luddy?"

" _There's a couple of things. One; This will be my last phone call to you, and if I cut out it's because my phone is dead. Electricity here doesn't work anymore; I can't charge it. Two; the boat to France is leaving earlier than expected."_

"You're coming sooner?!"

" _Ja. It's leaving next Monday. I'll be in France by the Tuesday."_

"Are you serious? That's great news!" Italy grinned ear to ear, his cheeks almost hurting at the expanse of his smile. "I'm so excited!"

" _Me too."_

If Italy could hear the sadness in Germany's voice, he didn't say anything. The phone call stayed quiet for a few moments, the only sounds were their light breathing.

" _How's Spain's country?"_ Germany asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't really know. The place we're in now is empty, but Spain doesn't talk much about how he's feeling, I suppose he's too worried about Romano to even think about it. How's Germany?"

" _Could be better. From what I can feel, it's going more and more to shit by the day."_

"That's a shame, I liked your house."

" _You should keep a journal."_

"Huh?"

" _Ja. If you can find writing implements, you should keep a journal. I've started one, helps me keep up with the days, it's also a comfort."_

"I have writing stuff! A nice girl at the bunker I was in gave me some!"

" _That's great. Maybe when this is all over you can get it published."_

"We both could!"

" _Ja. Sure. Oh, ja, America says hello."_

"America? You're with America?"

" _Ja. He won't tell me exactly what he was doing in Italy, but I bumped into him a few days ago. He says he's trying to get to England, but for some reason got stuck in Italy."_

"Oh. England has a lot of people that care for him," Italy said, absently playing with a fraying hole in his trousers.

" _Ja. I find it strange considering his personality, but there you have it." Germany sighed. "I must go, battery is low. I'll see you soon, ja?"_

"Sì. I'll try and be at the port for when you get there."

" _Italy?"_

"Sì?"

" _I hope your brother is okay."_

"Grazie. I'll make sure to tell him. See you soon, Luddy."

" _Tschüss, Feliciano."_

As soon as Germany hung up the phone, Italy through his head back, ignoring the pain shooting through his skull from hitting it against the wall. He couldn't stop smiling, Italy couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so happy, or the last time he'd really felt like things were falling into place. He and Germany were going to be reunited much earlier than anticipated, and Italy couldn't be happier.

* * *

 

Italy tip-toed into the nurse's office, grinning. Spain and Romano were fast asleep on one of the bed, Spain pressed tightly to Romano's side, a protective arm thrown over his chest. Italy ignored the pair on the bed, in favour of rummaging through the bags, looking for the notepad his friend had given him. When he found it, he zipped the bag and headed back to the classroom, deciding not to disturb the two sleeping nations.

As soon as Italy sat down in one of the many desks, he began his first diary entry.

_April 28_ _th_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_Germany contacted me today. He told me I should keep a journal. He said it was to keep track of the days, and that he was doing it too, but I think he was lying. I don't know why, but I do. Germany doesn't lie to me very often, but I know when he is. At least, I think I do._

_It was nice to hear from him again though, I missed his voice a lot. It's been a few months since I last saw him so it's nice to hear his voice. Although, that was only the second time I'd heard from him since we parted back in February, I'm not mad. I know it's hard to get contact with people these days, I learnt that trying to contact Japan._

_Speaking of Japan, I miss him too. It's been so long since I saw him! He always made the best lunches, it always made me really excited when he told me and Germany that he's made us lunchboxes! I haven't had one in too long though._

_In other news, Germany's going to be getting out of Italy earlier than we first thought! I'm going to see him again really soon! I'm sad though, today's conversation was too short, his phone was dying. America's with him though, so at least he's not all by himself in this, like I thought. I'm a little jealous of America though, he gets to be with Germany which is what I want more than anything right now._

_Oh. Yeah. Romano got shot today, he's okay, but he can't walk. Spain said I was selfish because I wanted to get out of here, and head to France where Germany's going to be docking. Maybe I am. It's not Romano's fault he got hurt, but I'm still itching to leave here. I don't want to be locked up in another place just after leaving one._

_Germany was right in telling me to write this, I feel better already. As much as I love Spain and Romano, I can't talk to them. They're too wrapped up in each other that sometimes I feel like I don't matter to either of them. I know that's not true though, they've both done everything in their power to protect me, and Germany too! Romano even gave Germany his gun when we left him in Italy!_

_The school we're stuck in isn't so bad at least, the biggest problem is the stench of blood that now permits through the halls, thanks to the men who tried to hurt us, and shot Romano. It makes me feel sick, and I'm scared it's going to attract the Zombies. Though I'm not sure how they actually work. Do they get attracted by smell, or sounds? Or is it just random? I don't know. I hope they don't come here though, Romano can't move. We'd all probably die._

_I thought I was going to die today. One of the bad men who followed us and shot Romano, held a gun to my head. He demanded something from us, although I was too scared to actually listen to what he wanted. Romano shot him though. It was a good shot for someone who was practically passed out on the floor in a pile of his own blood. I suppose I owe my brother my life. Though, when I think about it, I can't imagine him wanting it._

_That's all that happened today, so I don't really know what else to write, so I'm just going to stop. I'll try and write in this thing every day! Just like Germany said! He even said we'd get both of our journals published when this is all over! I hope we can, it'll be really cool!_

_Anyway, that's all for today._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

Italy closed the notebook, a small smile playing on his lips. It had felt good to write that; it was like a weight being lifted off of his chest. He pushed the pen into his shirt pocket and stood up. Italy walked out of the classroom and back up to the nurse's office.

"Hola, Ita," Spain greeted, smiling sheepishly at him.

"Oh, Spain. Are you still mad at me?"

"No. I'm sorry for snapping at you, I was just worried about Romano." Spain took a cloth from the water beside the bed and placed it over Romano's forehead. "He's burning up, Italy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means his healing powers aren't working at all, could result in infections and could stop him walking for months."

"Months? We can't stay here for months! We need to do something."

"There isn't anything we can do, other than look after him and make sure he doesn't push himself further than he can handle."

Italy shoved the notebook back in the bag, then turned to face Spain. "Is he in pain?"

"I don't know, but I presume so. He seemed fine when he fell asleep, this was a sudden reaction."

"Maybe he's just coming down with something? Why don't I see if the water is working here? A shower might be just what he needs."

"Maybe you're right. Do you mind?"

"Of course not, I want him to get better as quickly as possible."

"Thank you, Ita."

Italy kept quiet about the real reasons he needed Romano better, scared that Spain would yell at him again. Maybe he was selfish, but he didn't care. He had to get to France, he had to see Germany again.

"Of course."

Italy turned on his heel and sprinted out of the room and down the corridor. He searched through the hallways, searching for a changing room hoping that they'd be supplied with showers. He was glad when he found one, and even gladder when he turned the water on to find it working, and even still having some heat.

* * *

 

"Romano? We're going to move you, okay?" Spain said, running his fingers through Romano's sweat drenched hair.

"You know; I don't think this is a great idea anymore."

"'M fine," Romano mumbled, shifting slightly. "Where a-are we going?"

"I'm taking you to the shower, hopefully you'll feel slightly better after you're clean."

"I dun wanna," he whined, inching away from Spain's hands. "'M tired."

"I know you are, Roma, but you need to clean up a bit."

"Spain, maybe we should wait some more?"

"We can't, Ita, he's burning up."

"So put a cold cloth on his head, let him sleep some more."

"This was your idea."

"I know, and I was wrong."

"No you weren't, when you're feeling under the weather, doesn't a shower always help?"

"This is a little different, Spain. He's been shot, he hasn't got a little cold. You can't even begin to compare the two."

"Don't you think I know that?" Spain snapped, turning to face Italy. "Don't you think I know Romano's dying and there's fuck all I can do about it?"

Italy bit his lip, eyes on the ground. "He's not dying. You patched him up, he's going to be okay."

"He needs proper medical attention, something I can't give him! He needs surgery, like normal humans, it's not going to fix itself!"

"Maybe not completely, but it will get better. We may have lost our country, but our healing never fully disappears. Slowly but surely, his hip will fix itself."

"You're wrong!"

"G-guys?" Romano stuttered, drawing both eyes back to him.

"Roma?"

"S-stop fighting." Romano winced, shifting in the bed. "Take me to – to the shower, S-Spagna."

"Okay! We're going to take it slow though, sí?" Spain wrapped an arm under Romano's armpit. "Ita, you need to find something to cover his bandages, something waterproof."

"Got it."

* * *

 

A while later, Italy joined them back in the nurse's office, a roll of cling film in hand. "It was all I could find."

"It'll do. Now, take us to the showers."

Italy helped Spain pick Romano up, his feet barely touching the floor. Romano screamed, white-hot pain flashing through his entire body. Spain clenched his eyes shut, the pain in Romano's voice breaking his heart.

"Roma, you're going to be okay."

"I know that dammit!" Romano snapped, his head drooping forwards. Italy put a hand under his chin, pushing his head back into a comfortable position.

"How far is it?"

"Not far."

It took the three of them much longer than any of them would have liked to make it to the showers. Italy helped Spain wrap the cling film around Romano's bandages, then left them to it, knowing Romano wouldn't appreciate him being there whilst he was in such a venerable state.

Italy wondered through the empty halls, hands in pockets and heart heavy. He couldn't help but wonder if Spain was right, what if Romano _didn't_ heal? What if they were stuck there until eventually they died? What if he never saw Germany again? He knew he was being selfish, he knew his brother was hurt and needed his support, his comfort, but all Italy cared about was getting back to Germany.

He wasn't sure how he had managed to listen to Romano's screams echoing through the halls without running back and making sure everything was going smoothly, 'perhaps I just don't care enough.' He thought to himself, settling back down in the classroom he had hidden in earlier that day.

"Tuesday," Italy said to himself, mostly to fill the stuffy silence of the room. "I'll never make it in time. Germany is going to be in Spain in just over a week." Italy sat fiddling with his pen. "If we leave any later than today, I'll never make it to meet him at the docking area." His eyes fell on his backpack, his gun resting across it.

"I couldn't," he muttered, unzipping the bag and checking through the contents. Food? Check. Water? Check. Sketch book and Notepad? Check. Clothes? Check. He had everything he needed to leave. "All I'd have to do is fling my bag over my shoulders, and walk out. Spain and Romano wouldn't even notice I was gone," he said, zipping the bag and grabbing his gun. "I'd be on my own, could I do it?" Italy slipped his arms into the bag handles, resting it comfortably on his back. "Yes. For Germany."

Without another thought, Italy left, the heavy front doors shutting softly behind him as he walked away from the large building, ready for the long, lonely journey to France. He was ready, Spain and Romano would be fine without him, he knew that. So with that, Italy made his way down the winding road, ignoring any sense of regret. He was going to see Germany, and he wasn't going to let anyone get in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about shattered hips, other than you're supposed to seek immediate medical attention if you think you have one (I'm pretty sure you'd know though), and that surgery is really the only way to fix it.


	17. Chapter Sixteen - Spain

As soon as Romano was settled back down in the bed, his breathing steady and eyes heavy, Spain went in look for the other Italian, wanting to tell him that Romano was fine, and the pain seemed to be decreasing. Spain searched the school from top to bottom, calling Italy's name and listening in vain for a reply.

"Last room," Spain muttered to himself, pushing the door of a classroom open. There was no one in there, just empty desks, and scattered chairs. Spain was about to leave, when a sheet of paper caught his eye on one of the desks. He wasn't sure why he wanted to see what it was, but he was glad he did.

_I have to go, I'm sorry. I hope Romano recovers, and you two can meet up with Germany, America and I in a few weeks. I love you both. Very much. Don't blame yourselves, I just need to do this. I'll be waiting for you both. See you soon, fratello, brother Spain._

_Italy Veneziano_

"You've got to be kidding me." Spain ran his hands over his face, trying to still his beating heart. He bit his lip attempting to stop the quivering as he made his way back to Romano in the nurse's office. Romano smiled slightly as he entered, leaning heaving against the doorframe.

"H-have you found him?" Romano asked, staring at Spain's grimace.

"He's gone, Roma."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Romano winced as he sat up slightly, his entire body aching.

Spain stepped forwards, holding the note out towards Romano who took it with a raised eyebrow. Romano read the note once. Twice. Thrice. He read it over and over, his face contorting in worried anger.

"I'm going to kill him. We're going to find him, I'm going to hug him and then I'm going to kill the little bastard." Romano was shaking, the note crinkling in his tightened fist. "How the fuck could he just leave? After fucking everything!" Romano screamed, pain forgotten almost entirely.

"Roma, calm down. I'm going to see if he's still nearby, stay here, okay?"

"Where else am I fucking supposed to go?!"

Spain nodded his head. "Keep your gun close by. Just in case."

"Whatever." Romano crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the Spaniard as if it was his fault that his little brother had up and left. "Just go already."

Spain stood still for a moment, before turning on his heel and sprinting out of the room, his feet carrying him fast out of the building and down the road in the opposite direction to that of which they came. He ran for a few minutes, in hope Italy would've stopped for a break, but nothing. There was no sign Italy had even gone that way.

* * *

 

Romano was asleep when Spain returned to the nurse's office, his gun clasped dangerously in his hand. Spain removed the gun, setting it down on the bedside table, along with the bandages for Romano's wound. He sat down in the chair beside the bed, taking Romano's hand in his own, making sure to check for a pulse in his wrist.

"Spain?" Romano croaked, his eyes staying shut.

"I'm here."

"Did you find him?"

Spain sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. "No. There's no sign of him."

"What do we do now?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to find my brother." Romano squeezed Spain's hand before pulling it away. "But I know that's not possible right now, so let's settle for believing in him, and waiting for this stupid fucking thing to heal just a bit."

"I think that's for the best, your brother isn't stupid, he'll be okay."

"I know he will." Romano opened his eyes, the tears obvious but unshed. "Besides, he's left for Germany, right? He won't let anything get in the way of him seeing Germany again. Not even me apparently." Romano's voice broke, the previously unshed tears rolling down his cheeks.

Spain pressed a chaste kiss to Romano's forehead. "I'm sorry, mi amor."

"What are you apologising for? You're still here."

"I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry you got shot. I'm sorry we're stuck in the middle of this awful situation."

"You're apologies are worthless, Spain. You haven't done anything, nothing of what's happened is your fault."

"Except your brother leaving. That is my fault."

"It's not your fault he's selfish, Antonio."

"I shouted at him, I got angry."

"For good reason. He was being selfish, only caring about himself, it's not a first. I don't, in any way, blame you for his absence." Romano reached out for Spain's hand, twining their fingers back together. "Let's just go to sleep, I'm tired."

"You go to sleep, I'll keep watch."

"No. You need to sleep too, Antonio. No arguing. The place is locked up, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll be fine. Come on, come and get some sleep."

"If you insist." Spain climbed into the bed beside Romano, curling into a ball at his side, their interlocked hands resting on Romano's slowly rising and falling chest. "Goodnight, Lovi."

"Night, Antonio."

* * *

Spain woke a few hours later to a low cry of pain and a lot of shifting beside him. He bolted up, his heart racing fast. "Roma, what's wrong?"

"Bloody fucking healing is a bitch!" He cried, arching his back in a way that didn't at all look comfortable. "Make it stop!"

"What can I do?" Spain lifted Romano's shirt. "It's bleeding a lot, are you sure it's healing?"

"I can fucking feel it! Do something!" Spain scrambled off the bed, searching for anything to help with the pain, unfortunately falling short. "Spain!"

"Roma, take deep breaths, and calm down." Spain dipped a cloth in some water, and draped it over Romano's burning forehead. "Come on, breathe in, breathe out." Romano followed Spain's lead, taking deep breaths in then letting it out heavily and shakily.

"S-Spain," Romano croaked, his hand reaching out for Spain.

"I'm here," Spain replied. "How's the pain?"

"Dimming." Romano winced, shifting slightly. "At least it's healing."

"I need to change your bandages; they're soaked through with blood."

"Go for it, they feel sticky and gross anyway."

* * *

After Romano's bandages were changed, and the bloodied ones thrown away, Romano finally settled back down, the horrific pain of mending bones sub-sided, and his heart beating normally once again.

"I thought I was going to die," Romano admitted, resting his head on Spain's shoulder. "I was really scared."

"Me too." Spain kissed Romano's forehead. "But you didn't. You're alive, and you're healing. Which is the best news I think I've heard in months."

"I'm glad you're here, Tonio."

"Why wouldn't I be here?"

"Everyone else has left. Germany, my brother, they're both gone."

"Does that bother you?"

"No, I guess it doesn't. As long as we're together, we'll be okay. You will stay with me, right?"

"Of course, 'til death do us part, Lovino."


	18. Chapter Seventeen - North Italy

_April 29_ _th_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_I left yesterday. It may have been a selfish move, but I needed to do it. It's not like Spain and Romano will even really notice, unless they miraculously find the note I left. Surprisingly, I don't regret leaving, I think it's for the best._

_I'm very tired, though. I don't know how long I'd been walking, but my legs feel like they're on fire. I decided to take shelter for the night, rest my legs a bit. I knew it'd be tough, trying to make it to France in such a short amount of time, I just didn't realise I'd be in this much pain after one full day of walking. Perhaps I should have trained with Germany harder._

_It's late, and I'm exhausted, so that's all I'm going to write today. I hope to make it further tomorrow, I know I won't make it to the border, but I hope to put a lot more distance between me and my brother._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_April 30_ _th_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_All went well today. I made it far without any problems. I'm glad Spain isn't as infected as my country, means I haven't come across any Zombie's yet. Not that I'm scared. I'm ready for anything these days._

_I found some food today, it wasn't much but it makes up for the stuff I left with Spain and Romano. I'm starting to actually enjoy this tinned stuff, which scares me a little. It reminds me of World War Two. I remember the rations, disgusting that's the only word I can think of to describe it._

_I like to spend my nights thinking about the past, which sounds crazy when I put it into writing. There's no way I can compare World War Two with this situation, but sometimes I wish we could go back. I hate fighting, and war, but I'd take that over this any day. At least back then I had Germany and Japan (except when I left them for the Allies, but I don't like to think about that). We may have been at war, but we were more than allies. We were friends, I miss them._

_I haven't heard from Japan in far too long, I hope he's okay. I hope everyone's okay. Even that scary England. I want all nations to come out of this alive. I want this all to end, it's been going on for too long, and I'm sick of it._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_May 1_ _st_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_I ran into some Zombies today. There were so many of them, I didn't think I'd survive. They surrounded me, their creepy moaning sending shivers down my spine, and I almost gave in. But I didn't! I swallowed my fear and open fired! It was amazing if I say so myself, Germany would have been proud. Although, the amazing stopped when I realised I'd missed one and it almost bit me. Thankfully, there was a nice human who killed it and saved me. I wanted to help them by giving them some food, but it was too late for them, they had already been bitten. She killed herself right in front of me, so now I'm covered in her blood._

_I sometimes forget how fragile humans are, how easy it is for them to just die. Unlike me, I've been alive for too long. Sometimes I wish I'd just die, that all my memories could just fade away into nothingness. I'm not suicidal or anything, I just wonder sometimes. I wonder when I would have lived if I was born into a normal family, would I like my life? Would my family be nice? Would I make good friends? I know it's wishful thinking, I'm a nation, I've lived for hundreds of years, and nothing can change that. It's not all bad though. If I wasn't a nation, I'd never have met Germany._

_I tried to imagine my life without Germany today, it made me cry. Germany and I have been through a lot together, I couldn't imagine my life without him. It's crazy to think I met him by him taking me prisoner. Not that it was all bad, I actually quite liked being his prisoner. I think it was more trouble for him than it was for me. I think I fell in love with him back then. I think they call that Stockholm Syndrome or something._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_May 2_ _nd_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_I found a car! It works and everything! I'm really glad Romano taught me how to hotwire cars, otherwise I'd never have been able to take the vehicle. It doesn't have that much gas left, but it'll be enough to put a huge dent in this journey! It's getting closer and closer to the day Germany's going to be docking. I'm super excited to see him again._

_Also, today I jackpotted with food. I scavenged in some old factory, there was so much tinned food! I couldn't even take it all, it was weighing my bag down too much. So I left some there, I hope some other people will come across it or something, everyone needs food._

_I met some humans today, they say there's safe spots. Places around that have people, and stalls to trade things. I haven't come across one yet, but if I do I'm going to be sure to give them some food. It's always good to be nice, especially in times like this. The nice humans gave me a new pen, said I had more use for it than they did. I was really happy, so in return I gave them a tinned can of peaches. It was the first honest smile I'd seen in a very long time._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_May 3_ _rd_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_I hate everything. I tried to help someone today, I thought they were hurt, but they were acting! She tried to rob me, stabbing me in the arm in the process! I was so angry, and hurt, but I couldn't do anything about it. Every part of me wanted to hit her, but I didn't. I stupidly gave her some food and hobbled away as fast as I could._

_I want to find one of these safe spots I was told about. I want to find out how they work, and perhaps get some supplies. I've realised I might need more bandages than I've got, and some more water would be nice._

_I'm glad I thought to take some bandages from the nurse's office back at that school, otherwise the stab wound would have been a lot worse. I managed to clean it up and bandage it, but it'll need more bandages. I just hope it doesn't get infected, who knows where that woman's knife had been before it was slicing through my arm._

_I'm actually surprised with the lack of Zombies, I know Spain isn't nearly as bad as Italy, or England for that matter, but I'd heard it was getting worse by the day. Yet, I've only seen the ones that surrounded me a few days ago, granted there were lots of them, but not nearly as many as we saw on our travels getting to that shelter._

_I'm glad there's lots of places to hide out, so many abandoned factories, and buildings. I'm lucky I've been able to find a safe place each night. Only problem now is I'm worried about the car. I don't want anyone stealing it, I know that's a possibility but I need that car._

_I got a text from America today. It surprised me, he hadn't contacted me at all. He said Germany had wanted to call, but America couldn't afford to lose that much credit. I didn't mind though. He informed me where and when they'd be docking in France. I wanted to reply, tell him that I was making my way to France, so I was glad for the news, but I couldn't. My phone died today, the battery is gone, and I left my charger back at the school. Not that it matters, nowhere I've stayed in the past few days has had electricity. Nothing matters anymore though, in less than a week I'm going to be seeing Germany again._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_May 4_ _th_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_I miss Romano. Despite not regretting leaving, I miss them both a lot. I miss Spain's protection, and Romano's misplaced anger. I wonder how they're feeling, and if they miss me. I suppose Spain will, I made him break his promise to Germany after all. How can he protect me if I'm not with them? I'll have to make sure to tell Germany not to be angry at Spain, and that he tried his hardest. I just wasn't the most important person to look out for._

_I found one of the safe spots today. They have guards all around them, watching for Zombies. They have to check you over to make sure you're not bitten. It was scary, but the people were really nice. They let me drive through, and no one tried to steal my car, which was really nice._

_I traded some food for water and bandages, and a nice man who used to be a doctor cleaned my stab wound properly. It hurt a bit, but after it was cleaned and bandaged nicely he told me to change my bandages at least once every two days, to make sure it didn't get infected._

_Everyone I met in the safe space were nice, they were all smiling as if the Zombies didn't exist, it was a bit unnerving, but it was nice to see some genuine smiles. I forgot how nice genuine smiles were. Spain faked his smile for so long, I forgot just how nice and warm a real happy smile could be. I even managed some of my own real smiles._

_I also found out I've made it even further than I originally thought! Apparently France is two and half days away by foot! I'm glad I found a working car, although the fuel is definitely going to run out soon. I just hope I can make it to France at least._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_May 5_ _th_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_I didn't make it very far today, my arm was hurting too much and it made it too hard to drive. I wanted to go further, but the doctor yesterday told me not to push myself too much, or it wouldn't heal. Little does he know I heal just a bit faster than humans._

_I'm really glad my healing still works, if that's anything to go by, Romano will be healing too. His hip will get better, and they'll meet us in France as soon as possible. Thankfully, my stab wound wasn't too big, and is healing quickly._

_Tomorrow I'm determined to get at least a day away from France. I say determined, but I highly doubt it'll happen. My petrol will run out before I make it that far, I'm sure of it. I'm actually surprised it's lasted this long, considering it wasn't a full tank when I found it and I've driven a lot._

_Summer's coming, which I'm thankful for. The nights aren't cold, and they're shorter too. Being in the dark is the scariest part of all of this, not being able to see if anything is near, humans and Zombies alike._

_I've been having trouble sleeping since I left Spain and Romano, I guess I never put my sleeping into account when I walked away. Sleeping is hard when you haven't got anyone looking out for you. I have to make sure to block up any possible entrance as best as I can, and try to sleep for as little time as possible. Not that that's easy, I don't have an alarm, so I can't even set it._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_May 7_ _th_ _, 2018_

_Dear Journal,_

_I didn't write yesterday; I was too scared. Just as I was about to get my journal out and write about the good day I'd had, I was ambushed my Zombies! The worst part? I'd let my guard down! My gun wasn't close to me anymore, I didn't have anything to kill them with. I just had to run! I had to leave all my belongings behind, all my food and water and my only weapon._

_It was probably a poor choice, but everything was okay in the end. After hiding out a few miles away for a few hours, I headed back there. The Zombies were gone, and all of my stuff was still intact. Still, I decided staying there wasn't a good idea, so I packed it all back in my car and continued driving for a while. I managed to find a new place to stay for the remaining darkness of night, but I just couldn't sleep._

_On the upside, today I found another trading place. They had some petrol! I was really happy because they gave it to me for free, as they didn't have any use for it. I didn't listen though, when no one was looking a placed a few cans of food on the table before getting back in my car and driving away before they could give it back. It's never too late to be nice._

_I'm so close to France I can almost taste it. Germany's getting on the boat today, which means it's just a matter of hours until I can see him again. If I really hurry, I can get there before him, make sure they won't have to deal with any Zombies when they dock._

_I'm really excited. I think seeing Germany is the only thing that's kept me going these past few days. Since I got stabbed, and have been ambushed twice, my hope has been fading, but just knowing I'm going to be seeing Germany again so soon, I'm staying strong and keeping my head held high. I know Germany will want me to greet him with a smile, I just know it, and I want that smile to be real. Of course, how could it not be real, I'll be looking at my favourite person for the first time in months. He'll actually be in front of me, rather than a figment of my imagination._

_I'm going to continue driving now, I've seen signs for France, so I must almost be at the border. I can't give up now._

_Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

* * *

 

_May 7_ _th_ _continued:_

_I made it to France! I drove for hours, and finally I'm half way to the dock. I should make it there tomorrow hours before Germany and America arrive! I'm camping out in my car tonight, there's not so many abandoned buildings in France, which frankly is a relief._

_It's very late right now, I should probably get some sleep, but I'm too energized. I'm really excited. Germany is making his way to me, after too many months. I'm going to draw him something, he'll like that. He'll be really happy with that._

_Once again, Love,_

_Italy Veneziano (Feliciano Vargas)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you like this chapter. It's a bit different, but I thought it was the easiest way to follow Italy's journey from Spain to France, without it being long winded and flowing badly. I won't make a habit of chapters like this, but I did want a lot of happen, without the chapter being too long, or split into different parts. I also really enjoyed writing in this style.


	19. Chapter Eighteen - North Italy

Italy stood at the docks, his gun in his hand, eyes darting around the open space. He'd liked to say he enjoyed being in the open space, looking out to sea, it did make it easier to see any immediate danger, but that didn't settle his churning stomach. He still felt like he was being watched, like someone or something, was readying to pounce.

Italy was glad France was still relatively safe, there were still quite a few humans around, way more humans than Zombies. He had managed to make it through France practically unscathed, he had a few bruises, but he was more or less fine.

When Italy was sure he was safe, he began pulling off his grimy, blood covered clothing, and throwing it to the floor before plummeting into the cold sea water. The cold water felt nice against his skin, the dirt coming off in flecks around him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt clean, the last time his clothes didn't stick to his body with filth, and his hair was clean enough to run his fingers through it without cringing at the greasy feel.

Italy knew it was reckless to jump into the cold water, he didn't have a towel to dry with, only his old dirty clothes which he was ready to throw away and forget they existed. He was insanely glad Germany had made them all pack clothes, otherwise Italy would have been screwed.

Once as clean as he was going to get, Italy pulled himself from the water, dried himself with his dirty clothes, then pulled some clean ones from the large bag. He dressed himself, then sat with his bare feet in the water, kicking his legs back and forth.

* * *

 

Italy was waiting for hours before he saw the boat slowly rocking on the clear water, coming towards him. He shot to his feet, staring ahead at the horizon. He couldn't see anyone on the boat, it was still too far away, but he knew. He knew Germany was on that boat, that Germany was only minutes away.

He watched with bated breath as the boat grew steadily closer, the people coming into view. Tall. Blonde. He was there, Italy could see him. He wasn't sure if Germany could see him yet, but he didn't care. He waved frantically at the boat, shouting Germany's name as tears of happiness welled in his eyes.

Italy smiled happily when Germany finally caught his eye, a shocked look spreading across his usually stoic face. Italy turned around, thinking something was behind him, what else could Germany have been so shocked at? Germany was smiling widely when Italy turned back around, America was too. They both looked happy to see the Italian.

As soon as Germany stepped foot on the dock, Italy was in his arms, crying and clinging to the German, his legs wrapped tightly around Germany's waist. Germany was cradling him against him, his own tears of happiness falling into Italy's shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, whispering shaky greetings to one another. America stood to the side, awkwardly looking anywhere but at the couple, feeling as if he was intruding on an intimate moment.

Eventually, Germany put Italy to his feet. "Italy, I wasn't expecting you."

"I told you I'd try to be here. Oh, Luddy," Italy cried, wrapping his arms around Germany again. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Feliciano." Germany pressed a kiss to the Italian's head. "You're not hurt or anything, are you?"

"I got stabbed in the arm a few days ago, but it healed nicely! Are you hurt?"

Germany shot America a look over Italy's head, hand rubbing lightly over his forearm. "No. I'm fine."

"I'm glad."

"Where is Spain and Romano?"

Italy froze, pulling himself from Germany's arms. "I left them back in Spain."

"You what?"

"Woah, dude! You came all this way by yourself?" America spoke for the first time, drawing Italy's attention to him.

"Yeah. Romano can't walk, or at least he couldn't when I left, but I needed to get here."

"That was reckless, Feliciano," Germany said, putting a hand on Italy's shoulder. "But I'm really happy you're here. I can't say I was much looking forward to a trip to Spain after the trip through Italy."

"How is Romano?" America asked, pushing his broken glasses further up his face.

"When I left, not good. Spain didn't think he was going to heal, but if my healing still works, his must too. We are the same country after all."

"What about Spain?"

"Angry. He kept shouting at me. He was only kind with Romano."

"That doesn't sound like Spain," America said, finally stepping towards the two other nations. "He's not an angry person."

"You'd be surprised what such tragedy does to people, America. The days before I made Spain take Italy and Romano, Spain was constantly fighting with Romano. Why was he shouting at you?"

"He said I was selfish, because I was only thinking about getting back to you and not my brother." Italy frowned. "I know he was right, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt."

Germany smiled. "I'm glad you were selfish."

"Me too!" Italy turned to America. "Are you going to be heading to England now?"

"I was thinking of sticking around for a few more days, if that isn't a problem?"

"Not a problem at all! I have plenty of food for you to join us for a few days."

America stared at Germany, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, thanks, Italy."

"No problem! Let's pack up my car, then we can drive to find somewhere to stay for the night." Italy took Germany's hand, and his bag. "Ve, we can come back here every day to see if Romano and Spain have managed to catch up!"

"Wait, car?"

"Yeah! I found a working one in Spain, and some nice people at a trading place gave me more petrol, so it didn't run out! That's how I made it here in time."

"Cool! Can I drive?"

"Sì, I'd rather sit in the back with Germany anyway. You don't mind right, Germany?"

"Nein."

* * *

 

It only took a few minutes of America's reckless driving for them to find a good shelter for the next few days. They settled back into an old sofa, the red colour obvious but faded in an old motel lobby, the dust covering each surface in a thick layer.

"Dudes! You should go out somewhere! I can hold the fort!"

"Ve, America, that sounds nice! Can we, Germany?"

"Ja. I don't see why not." Germany rubbed at his arm, eyes locked with America in a silent thank you. "Get your gun then, we'll go."

Italy happily grabbed his gun, then led Germany out of the building. It was getting dark out, but Italy didn't mind. He took Germany's hand and began pulling him along, skipping happily along the pavement. Germany followed, smiling fondly at the Italian.

They walked together in silence until they came across a relatively clean path, the only real dirt being from the dead Zombies scattered around. "There must have been an ambush here, we should keep an eye out," Germany said, sitting on the swing beside Italy.

"I've really missed you, Luddy."

"I've missed you too, Feliciano. More than I can ever put into words."

"Why did you leave me?" Italy voice was low, almost scared to voice the words out loud.

"I needed too. It was the only way we'd all stay alive. You needed to be on that boat, and with me there you wouldn't have been able to be on there."

"I could have stayed with you. We could have let Spain and Romano go on the boat, I could have stayed with you, Germany."

"I couldn't let that happen. It was too dangerous."

"Why do you think you have to do everything alone?!" Italy shouted, turning to face Germany with tear filled eyes. "Why do you not believe I could have been a help?" Italy wiped the spilled tears away angrily.

"It was better this way." Germany stood up, turned to Italy and pulled him from the swing into his chest. "Besides, we're together again now, what does it matter?"

Italy gripped the front of Germany's dirty shirt, his tears seeping through the thin fabric. "It does matter though, Ludwig. I've been worried sick about you."

"And I you, Feliciano, but we're both okay, and together."

Italy nodded. "You're right. Promise you'll never leave me again?"

Germany hesitated, before nodding. "I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

 

"So tell me," Italy said, swinging himself back and forth on the swing. "How did you find America?"

"We just bumped into each other. He was panicking, and backed into a corner by a bunch on the disgusting things."

"So, you saved him?"

"I suppose so. I think he also saved me though." Germany rocked on his heels, pushing the swing ever so slightly. "I was going mad on my own, Feliciano."

"That doesn't matter anymore." Italy reached across between the swings and placed a hand on Germany's. "Because we're together again. You're never going to be alone again. I promise."

Germany held back a chocked sob, his hand intertwining fingers with Italy's. "Thank you." Germany brought their hands up, and pressed a chaste kiss to Italy's hand.

"I'm happy I'm home," Italy a said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You're not home, we're in France."

"You. Germany you're home. Home is where the heart is, right?"

Germany blushed a dark crimson. "Ja. I suppose I'm home too then."

Italy stood up from his swing, and moved over to Germany's. He slid his legs around Germany's waist, straddling him on the swing. "Maybe we should end it all, you know?"

"Don't say such things, Feliciano."

"I mean it. If we took our lives, we could die together."

"And I mean it, don't speak that way. You're going to get through this alive."

Italy nuzzled his head into Germany's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of dirt and sweat. It reminded him of World War Two. "Wait, what?" Italy suddenly pulled away, locking eyes with Germany. "What did you say?"

"I said, 'we're going to get through this alive.' Why?"

"No, you said I was going to get through this."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did! You said, 'you're going to get through this alive', not we."

"It was just a mistake; we're going to get through this alive." Germany wound his arms around Italy's middle. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You better not be." Italy kissed Germany's cheek lightly. "We should get back, America's probably wondering where we are."

"Ja. Let's go."

* * *

 

Italy sat with his feet in the water, the cold ripples lapping over his pale skin. Germany and America had gone off to look for water, whilst he stayed behind, waiting to see if his brother and Spain had come to find him yet. He wasn't sure how they'd find him, but he knew they would. Romano was his brother after all.

"Veneziano! You fucking bastard!" Italy's head shot around at the voice, his entire body twisting to see the owner of the loud voice.

"Roma!" He called back, getting to his feet. "Spain!" Italy ran to them, throwing his arms around Romano.

"Get off! That hurts!" Romano pushed at Italy's shoulders, unlatching him from himself. "You're very fucking lucky we found you." He curled his hand into a fist, and promptly punched his brother in the stomach. Italy doubled over, clutching his stomach, whilst shielding his face from the continuous punches thrown his way.

"Romano!" Spain scolded, pulling the elder Italian's arms to stop any further punching. "That was unnecessary."

"No it wasn't, he fucking deserved that." Romano's lips quivered. "Fucking arsehole." A few seconds later and large tears were flowing down Romano's cheeks as he held his brother tightly against him. "Stupid fucking dumb little brothers," he muttered, rubbing his head against Veneziano's.

"I wish I had a camera right now," Spain said, grinning widely.

Italy looked up at his brother with watery eyes. "Romano?"

"I hate you so much."

"How did you find me?" Italy moved to hug Spain, who happily pulled the smaller Italian into his chest, his arms warm around Italy's body.

"We left the day after you did, so I suppose we were never that far away from you. We knew you'd be at a harbour, and this just happened to be the first one we checked," Romano answered, glaring at his brother. "You're lucky I'm not trying to kill you right now."

"We weren't expecting you to just be sitting there. He didn't come, did he?"

"Germany? Yes! He's here! He and America are looking for extra bottles of water."

"He really came here?"

"Yup! Three days ago!"

"So that's why you're so happy."

"Sì. Speaking of which, how are you, fratello? How's the hip?"

"Painful, but it's getting there. Spagna's been a big help."

Spain beamed at the elder Italian. "I can't take all the credit, your brother's been really strong through it all."

"I'm glad. I was really worried."

"Worried? You fucking left us. Don't you dare pretend you were worried."

"Roma! Of course, I was worried! I just…"

"You just needed to get to your potato rather than stay to help look after your brother. Yeah, I know."

"It's not like that."

"Let's not argue," Spain chirped, wrapping an arm around Romano. "Let's wait for Germany and America to come back, then we can eat together!"

"Would either of you like a bath? The water's cold, but refreshing," Italy asked, waving his hand towards the water.

"Oh, that's why you look clean."

"Yeah! I can wait over there whilst you clean."

"Sure. Come on Spagna."

"Are we skinny dipping, Roma?"

Romano blushed, glaring at the Spaniard. "Just come on, I'm grimy."

* * *

 

Later that day, when everyone was back together in the motel, the five of them settled to a meal of cold beans, and tinned fruit. For the first time in months, Italy didn't care about the bad food, he didn't care that the cold beans got stuck in his throat, or that the tinned fruit tasted nothing like fruit, all he cared about what the fact he had his family back. He was back with the three people he loved over everyone else, and America.

"Is there a room Roma and I can stay in?" Spain asked, when everyone had finished eating.

"Of course! We are in a motel after all!" America grinned at them. "Looking for some alone time?" He winked, causing the Italian to splutter and threaten to hit the American over the head with his shoe.

"Roma and I have had plenty of alone time." Spain wrapped an arm around the still seething Italian. "We just need to have a comfy bed for Roma, his hip isn't perfect after all."

"There's room, but this place is lacking comfortable beds. I did make sure to bag the comfiest one though, I suppose you can have it," America replied.

"That's surprisingly generous of you, America," Germany said, shifting Italy around in his lap.

"He needs it more than I do."

"Well, thanks," Romano muttered, getting to his feet. "It's been a long day, I'm tired. Come on, Spagna." He disappeared out of the door before Spain could reply.

"Buenas Noches, everyone." Spain grinned at them all, his eyes stopping on Italy. "I'm glad you're okay, Ita. Romano would never admit it, but he was very worried about you. We both were." He lent down to press a chaste kiss to the Italian's cheek. "Thank you for being okay. And, thank you, Germany, for coming back."

"I don't break my promises," Germany replied, glancing at the small man in his lap fondly. "I should be the one thanking you, really."

"How about I thank both of you?" Italy chimed, looking between them. "You, big brother Spain, for looking after me when Germany couldn't. And you, Luddy, for coming back to me."

Spain grinned, but before he could reply, an irritated Italian shouted from the hall.

"Fucking hell, Spagna. I said I wanted to go to bed, you're supposed to follow me!"

Italy and America chuckled, and even Germany let out a small snigger.

"That's my cue to leave. See you all in the morning." Spain waved to the small group before leaving, loudly greeting his boyfriend outside.

"I think I should probably follow them." America got to his feet. "They have no idea where to go."

"Will you be coming back?"

"Nah, probably going to head off to bed too." America looked pointedly at Germany. "You two probably have things to talk about."

Germany avoided his gaze, dropping his head against Italy's shoulder. "Gute nacht, America."

"Buona notte."

"Night, dudes!" America left, his feet heavy as he ran down the hall calling for Spain and Romano. Italy shuffled, his back flat against Germany's stomach and chest.

"Did you think about me when we were apart?" Italy asked, lifting his head to look up at the German.

"Every minute I was awake, Feliciano."

"What about when you were sleeping?" Italy walked his fingers up Germany's thigh.

"Even then." Germany took Italy's adventurous hand, brushing his lips lightly over the knuckles. "I never stopped thinking about you."

"Me either, Ludwig. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Feliciano." Once again, Ludwig brushed his lips over the knuckles. "Ich liebe dich. Ich liebe dich so sehr es weh tut."

"Ti amo anch'io. Così tanto." Italy turned his body to face Germany, his lips catching the German's in a chaste kiss. "Machen Sie Liebe zu mir, Deutschland," Italy murmured, staring at Germany with wide, happy eyes.

"Qualsiasi cosa per te, Italia."

Italy pressed their lips back together, this time firmer. Germany wound his arms around Italy's back, pulling him closer than either thought possible.

"Vuoi dire così tanto per me," Italy mumbled against Germany's neck, his tongue leaving glistening trails against the pale skin.

Germany groaned, tilting his head to give the Italian more space to work with. His fingers traced patterns over the small of Italy's back, cold fingers tingling against the warm skin. Italy pulled away from Germany's neck, running his fingers over the small read marks he'd left behind. Germany was smiling at him, his blue eyes practically shining with love for the man in his lap.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Will you always love me?"

"Ja. Forever."

Italy smiled softly, linking their fingers together. "I like it when Germany is honest with me."

Germany didn't reply, instead leaning in and pressing their lips back together. They kissed, soft and sweet, their tongues lazily rubbing together, neither fighting for dominance over the other, only pulling away when they both lacked the air to breathe.

"I want to take this slow, Feliciano."

"Me too. We don't need to rush; we've got all night."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I want to make love, not have frenzied sex." Italy smiled, circling his arms around Germany's neck, his fingers toying with the collar of Germany's shirt. "I do want this off as soon as possible, thought."

"No! I mean, it's cold, I want to keep it on."

Italy pouted, moving his hands to Germany's shoulders. "But we never keep clothes on during sex!"

"Just tonight, okay? It's cold in here, you can keep yours on too If it makes you feel better."

"Doesn't Germany want to see me naked?" Italy smirked, bringing his hands to the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. "Am I not desirable anymore?"

"You're gorgeous, Italy. You couldn't possibly be undesirable." Germany latched onto one of his nipples, his tongue drawing circles it. Italy arched his back, hands back on Germany's shoulders to keep him from falling backwards. Germany's hands gripping Italy's thighs, his thumbs rubbing circles over the fabric.

"You're so sensitive here," Germany said, blowing cold air over the nipple causing it to harden. "I've always wondered If I could make you cum with your nipples alone."

Italy slouched down, leaning his head-on Germany's shoulder. "Can we go to our room now?"

"Ja. I'll carry you." Germany picked the Italian up bridal style, and carried his almost effortlessly to their room. He placed him down gently on the bed. "Du bist mein Lieblings-Person." Germany kneeled over Italy, his thumbs rubbing over Italy's nipples. "Du bist wunderschön."

Italy giggled, pulling Germany down to attach their lips. "Too many layers, undress me, please, Luddy," Italy whined, bucking up against Germany's leg. Germany unzipped Italy's fly, and began tugging the jeans down his thin legs, followed by his boxers.

"Du bist perfekt, Feliciano," Germany said, his eyes trailing down Italy's nude body. "So sehr perfekt."

Italy flushed, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. "Ti amo."

"Ich liebe dich." Germany kissed Italy's forehead. "So sehr." He kissed his way down Italy's body, whispering sweet nothings and terms of endearment. Italy laid still, moaning quietly every time Germany kissed, or sucked, on a particularly sensitive spot. Germany stopped just below Italy's navel, sucking light marks into the milky skin. "I've missed this."

"M-me too."

"Is this okay?" Germany asked, his mouth hovering over Italy's erection.

"S-Sí."

* * *

 

Italy rested his head against Germany's shoulder, a leg draped over Germany's legs and fingers drawing patterns over his still covered chest. Germany was humming a song, low and steady, softly enough for the sounds to be almost non-existent, but in their proximity, Italy could hear every little breath the German made.

Germany tapped along to the tune on Italy's bare back, his calloused fingers ticking the Italian slightly.

"Hey, Luddy?"

"Hm?"

"Grazie."

"What for?"

"In time of great despair, you're always there. I've been so scared, and now you're here. You get rid of any fear, and replace it all with something better. Something I can feel proud of. I guess I'm thanking you for loving me."

"Don't ever thank me for loving you, Feliciano. It's not something that needs to be thanked."

"I know. I guess it just overwhelms me sometimes. Being with you, like this, it's like a dream."

"It's better than a dream, because I'm really here. We're really together."

"I'm so happy."

Germany stayed quiet, his fingers running through Italy's once soft hair. Italy snuggled in tighter, and pressed a chaste kiss to Germany's neck.

"Ti amo."

"Ich liebe dich."

"Oh! I have something for you!" Italy exclaimed, wiggling out of Germany's grip.

"What is it?"

"Stay here, I'll be back in a minute." Italy pulled on his discarded underwear before skipping out of the room, ignoring Germany's protests to put something more on. He returned minutes later with a sheet of paper in hand.

"What's that?"

"It's for you!" Italy slipped back out of the underwear, climbed back into bed and handed the German the drawing. Germany stared down at it, noting the effortless detail in the black and white lines.

"It's me and you, see." Italy pointed at the page.

"I can see, it's beautiful." Germany ran his fingers over the soft lines of Italy in the drawing. "Your talent in art never fails to amaze me, Feliciano."

Italy beamed, his smile wide. "I hoped you would like it!"

"I love it." He looked almost sad as he stared at the two smiling faces on the page, rings evident on their fingers, and his house back in Berlin behind them standing tall, vines covering the bricks.

"I want us to live in Germany when we're married," Italy murmured, his face buried in the dusty pillow. "With a dog, and cats too."

"You wouldn't want to live in Italy?"

"Not permanently."

"Oh." Germany set the picture aside with one final glance, before settling beside Italy, pulling him close. "Then Germany it is."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you." Germany kissed the back of Italy's head, not caring about the stray pieces of hair getting in his mouth. "Gute nacht, Italy."

"Buona notte, Germany."

* * *

 

Italy cracked his eyes open, the lack of body heat beside him stirring him from his peaceful slumber. He was going to call out for his boyfriend, when he heard hushed whispers outside of the door. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and padded towards the door, leaning lightly against it.

"You haven't told him, have you?"

"No. I'll do it though."

"Ludwig, you can't keep this from him for much longer. Either you tell him, or I will. It's not fair on the poor guy, he deserves to know the truth."

Italy could hear Germany's loud sigh, and could imagine him running his fingers through his flat blonde hair, slicking it back once again.

"Alfred, I appreciate your concern for him, but he's a big boy, he'll understand."

"I mean it. You tell him, or I will. You're running out of opportunities."

"I'm aware of that. I'll tell him in the morning, just please, let us have tonight."

"You better tell him. He may be a big boy, but I can't imagine it going down well with him."

"Perhaps not." Germany leant back against the door, causing Italy to back away slightly.

"I know you love him, Ludwig, that's exactly why he should know."

"Can we just have tonight?"

"I wouldn't dream of taking that away from you, you know that. We made a deal, and I intend to keep my side of it."

"Thank you."

"I'll see you in the morning."

Italy scurried back to the bed, settled back into position and feigned sleep as Germany settled back beside him, pulling the Italian close.

"I'm so sorry, Italy," he heard Germany mumble as he ran his fingers over Italy's cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm going to be honest, this was probably my favourite chapter to write. I don't think I've ever written something so damn soppy. There's also lots of German and Italian talking. There was going to be some tooth rottingly fluffy sex, but I decided against it. I personally don't think this story needs full on smut to be honest. I hope you're enjoying it despite that.
> 
> When it comes to the translations, I was originally going to put them with the writing itself, but it made it look messy, and I didn't like it, but please, if reading it without the translations makes it hard to understand what's going on (I.E takes away from the overall sap of what's being said) please tell me so I can change it back.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Ich liebe dich. Ich liebe dich so sehr es weh tut. – I love you. I love you so much it hurts. (German)
> 
> Ti amo anch'io. Così tanto. – I love you too. So much. (Italian)
> 
> Machen Sie Liebe zu mir, Deutschland – Make love to me, Germany (German)
> 
> Qualsiasi cosa per te, Italia – Anything for you, Italy (Italian)
> 
> Vuoi dire così tanto per me – You mean so much to me. (Italian)
> 
> Du bist mein Lieblings-Person – You are my favourite person (German)
> 
> Du bist wunderschön – You're Beautiful (German)
> 
> Du bist perfekt – You are perfect (German)
> 
> So sehr perfekt. – So very perfect (German)
> 
> Gute nacht – Good Night (German)
> 
> Buona notte – Good Night (Italian)


	20. Chapter Nineteen - North Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is long winded, and kind of drags on, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! There's also a lot of speech wow

The next morning, Italy wiggled out of Germany's arms, dressed himself and fled the room before Germany could stir from his sleep. He hadn't managed to get back to sleep, America and Germany's conversation running through his brain on a loop. _Why was Germany sorry? What does he deserve to know?_ Italy wondered down the empty halls, until he found the room he knew his brother was staying in.

Italy burst into the room without knocking. Romano screamed, pulling the covers over his body, and Spain's entire being.

"Get the fuck out!" Romano shouted, his cheeks crimson and breath shaky. Spain crawled out from below the covers, wiping his mouth and sending a lazy smile at Italy.

"I'm so sorry!" Italy turned on his heel, but didn't the leave the room. "I didn't know you'd be doing that!"

"Ita, it's okay," Spain replied.

"It's not fucking okay! He should knock!"

"I'm sorry!" Italy whined, keeping his back to the pair. "I didn't mean to!"

"Wait outside while we get dressed, dammit."

"Okay." Italy stepped out of the room, shutting the door lightly behind him. As soon as the wood was closed firmly, Italy chuckled. It had been a long time since he'd walked in on his brother having sex with Spain, but really, he was just glad Romano's hip still let him do such things.

A few minutes later, Romano threw the door open and dragged his little brother in, throwing him down on a ratty chair in the corner of the room. "Now, tell me, little brother, why the fuck you think it's okay to burst into my room like that?"

Italy grinned. "It's not technically your room, fratello."

"You know full well what I mean."

"You and big brother Spain seem to be getting on great."

"You can shut the fuck up, Veneziano. What happens between me and the tomato bastard is my business, and no one else's!" Romano pouted. "And dammit, stop calling him that!"

"I don't mind," Spain chimed from his place on the bed.

"Well I do! It's creepy."

"Don't like the idea of sleeping with someone you're related too, eh, fratello?" Feliciano joked, crossing his arms.

"Absolutely not. Spagna isn't our brother, stop calling him it."

"It's just a term of endearment, Lovi."

Romano narrowed his eyes at the Spaniard. "It's weird." He turned back to Italy. "Why are you here, anyway? Why aren't you with your macho potato?"

"He's lying to me about something. I overheard him and America last night, they were talking about me deserving to know something, then Luddy apologised me when he thought I was asleep. He's hiding something."

"This may seem like the obvious answer, Vene, but why don't you just talk to him? I know I should practice what I preach, but talking does help. Germany loves you, that much is obvious, if you flat out ask him what's going on, he won't be able to lie to you."

"That's grown up of you to say, Lovi," Spain said, wrapping an arm around Romano's waist. "He's also right. Feliciano, you can't come to any conclusion by ignoring the fact there's a problem. That was always mine and Roma's problem. Just talk to him."

"I know it's going to be something I don't want to hear though!"

"It usually is, but if you don't talk about it, you can't get past it."

"But-"

"No buts, Ita, it takes one little question."

"And if you don't get out of this room in the next five seconds, I'll choke you to death," Romano warned, opening the door.

"Good luck, Vene!" Spain grinned, patting Italy's shoulder. "Don't let him dodge around the question either!"

Italy thanked the two, before making his way back to the room he was sharing with his boyfriend. When he got there, Germany was sitting dressed on the bed, drawing in hand.

"Feliciano, where have you been?" He asked, not looking up.

"Have you been cheating on me?"

Germany's head shot up, eyes blown wide. "Excuse me?"

"Have you been cheating on me?" He repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What makes you ask that, Feliciano?"

"Italy. Call me Italy. I'm mad at you."

"I don't understand? Of course I'm not cheating on you."

"Then what are you hiding from me?"

Germany frowned, placing the paper on the bed. "Hiding from you?"

"Yes. I heard you and America arguing last night. He said you need to tell me something. What is it? What are you not telling me?"

"You were asleep."

"I was faking it! Stop avoiding the question!"

"I don't want to talk about this now, Italy. Let's spend the day together, then I'll tell you everything. I promise."

"No! I want to know what you're hiding. We're engaged, you shouldn't be keeping secrets."

Germany stood up from the bed, and stepped towards Italy. "It's not to hurt you, Italy. The exact opposite actually, let's just spend today together."

"You said you'd tell me this morning. If you don't tell me, I'm walking out of this room without you."

"Please, Italy." Germany looked on the verge of tears, his piercing blue eyes wet with unshed moisture. "Please, just give me a few more hours of normalcy."

"What's going on Germany? What's going on with you?"

Germany dropped to his knees, head in his hands. "I'm so sorry," he choked out, droplets of water hitting the ground below him. Italy crouched down, placing his hands on Germany's shoulders, face soft now.

"Luddy? What have you done?"

"I can't tell you. I just can't do it."

"Then I'm leaving. Come and find me when you want to talk." Italy got back to his feet. "Or maybe I should just go and ask America?" Before Germany could say anything, Italy was out of the door, slamming it heavily behind him. He stormed down the hall, back to the main room.

"It didn't go well I'm assuming?" Spain asked from his place on the floor.

"He just started crying." He flopped down beside the Spaniard. "Where is everyone?"

"Roma's in the room still, his hip is hurting a lot this morning. I don't know about America, haven't seen him."

"He seemed fine when I was in your room."

"Your brother's stubborn, he doesn't know when to quit when he's ahead."

"Huh?"

"He wanted sex, Vene. I told him it wasn't possible, that his hip wasn't ready for it, yet he pushed for it. In the end, he got hurt and kicked me out of the room like it was my fault."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"So, what happened with Germany?"

"He wanted to spend the-"

"Italy," Germany interrupted, walking into the room. "Come with me. I'll tell you everything."

"Really?"

"Ja."

"I'll talk to you later, big brother Spain."

"Sure."

Feliciano followed Germany silently, his heart racing in his chest. Germany led them silently outside, biting his lip nervously. He really hadn't wanted to tell Italy so soon, but he also knew he deserved to know.

"What is it, Germany?" Italy asked cautiously when Germany stopped walking and turned to face him.

"I want to start this but saying I love you. I don't want you to forget that for a second, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Germany."

Germany swept a hand through his hair. "Promise me, Feliciano, please."

"I promise, Ludwig. I would never be able to forget that." Italy wrapped his arms around Germany, nudging his head into the crook of Germany's neck. "I love you too."

"Thank you."

"So what is?"

Ludwig took a deep breath, rubbing circles on the small of Italy's back. "I was bitten."

Italy took a step back, eyes wide. "What?"

"I was bitten in Italy."

"Very funny." Italy laughed nervously, nausea setting in his stomach. "What's really going on? You did cheat on me, didn't you? I don't care anymore, just tell me the truth."

"I'm not lying." Germany lifted his sleeve, a faint bite mark stood out against his pale skin. "I'm not going to hurt you before you think that. I guess considering we're nations, the virus takes longer to set in, but I can feel it, Feliciano. I can feel it eating away at me, I'm going to turn and there's nothing I can do about it."

"No. No. No. This can't be happening!" Italy screamed, stepping further from Germany. "It's fake! You're lying!"

"Feliciano, calm down!"

"No! You can't do this to me, Germany! You can't die," Italy sobbed out, punching at Germany's chest. "You can't leave me here alone!"

"You're not going to be alone, Feliciano. You've got Romano, and Spain. You can find other nations, you'll be okay."

"But I've just you back! Please, you can't leave me again!"

"I don't have a choice. I've asked America to kill me, Italy. Tonight."

"What?" Italy looked up at him, tears streaming down his face.

"I don't want to become one of them, I want to die myself. As Ludwig. Not as those disgusting things that caused all of this."

"No way. That's not happening."

"Italy."

"I'll do it."

"What?"

Italy wiped at the tears on Germany's cheeks. "I won't have someone else give you your final wish. As your fiancé, that's my job."

"Huh?"

"I'll kill you. If that's what you really want, I'll do it. The thought of anyone hurting you kills me, much less America doing it. Let me do this for you, Germany. Let me give you your last dying wish."

"I can't allow that."

"Why not? Have I not proved I'm capable?"

"It's not about capability. I don't want you to do it because you're Feliciano. Sweet, kind, innocent Feliciano. Killing your boyfriend? It'd haunt you, and I don't want to burden you with that."

"It's no burden. It's not like its murder either."

"Enough. America is doing it, end of story."

"No. I won't allow it."

"Italy, this isn't the time to be stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn. How can you expect me to sit back and watch someone kill you?" Italy buried his face into Germany's chest. "This isn't fair. I've only just got you back."

"I'm sorry."

"How did it happen?"

"I was helping someone, I was too slow, Feliciano. I didn't move quick enough."

"Does it hurt?"

"It did at first, but it's been numb for the past few days."

"When did it happen?"

"A few weeks ago. America was going to kill me instantly, but I begged him to let me see you once more. He promised he'd only do it if I started acting weird."

"But you didn't? You're okay. Maybe you won't change?"

"Wishful thinking. I know it's going to happen, I can feel it in my veins, in my heart. I've got mere days, that's why it needs to happen today."

"What if I shot myself too? Then we could be together!"

"Don't even think about that. I will never forgive you if you give up. I meant what I said, you can survive this, and when you do, you can remember me properly. Don't throw in the towel for me, Feliciano."

"I don't want to be without you. Not again."

"And I don't want to leave you." Germany touched his lips to Italy's forehead. "But one of us living is better than neither. You're a soldier remember? Tougher than you look. Be strong for me, Feliciano."

"I promise to be strong for you, if you let me grant your wish of dying. I really can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you."

"Can you stand the thought of you hurting me?"

"Not really. I'll feel horrible, and I'll hate myself, but at least I'll know I've given you what you wanted. What you needed."

"Then I accept. If you think you can bring yourself to do it, do it."

"Tougher than I look, remember?"

"You sure are."

"What do you want me to do after?"

"Burn my body. Or bury me. I don't care, as long as you don't leave me to the things."

"Are you scared?"

"Not anymore. I feel almost at peace."

"But you were?"

"Ja. I was scared."

Italy traced his fingers over Germany's heart, relishing in the feel of the faint beating under his fingertips. "Why didn't you end it yourself? Or when it first happened?" Italy asked quietly, not trusting his voice to crack.

"I already told you, because I wanted to see you one last time."

"Have you thought about ending it yourself?"

"Of course I have, until I realised I'd never be able to do it. I couldn't die at my own hands anymore. I'd hold the gun to my head, but I could never pull the trigger."

"Even if you wanted to die?"

"Even then. I know it's wrong to burden someone else with the burden of killing me, but it's that or I turn into one of those things. Please understand this."

"I do, Luddy. I do understand. It's just hard for me to let go. How can I possibly keep going knowing you're not going to be there to hold me at night, or keep telling me that everything is going to be okay?"

"You know I'll be with you, right? No matter where we end up, I'll be with you."

"I know."

The two were silent for a while, holding each other close, neither moving to let go. Germany's fingers combed through Italy's hair, trying to replace the stringy feel for the one before everything started. He tried to remember Italy's hair silky and soft. Italy hummed lightly, his fingers still tracing patterns over Germany's chest, other hand clenching his clothes tightly.

"I want to wake up now, Ludwig."

"Huh?"

"I want to wake up."

"You're not asleep, Feliciano."

Italy let out a quiet sob, burying his face into Germany's neck, warm tears falling onto pale skin. "How can this not be a dream? How can this be our lives now? Countries falling at the hands of undead humans? It doesn't make sense!"

"I wish it was a dream." Germany chuckled lightly. "I wish right now I could be shaking you awake, yelling that you'd over slept."

"I did that a lot, didn't I?" Italy pulled away to finally look up at Germany. "I'm sorry I was such a nuisance to you."

Germany wiped the tears from Italy's face with his thumb, and held his face softly between his hands. "I wouldn't change you for the world. Yeah, you're loud, scared of everything, annoying at times, but," Germany paused to rest his forehead against Italy's. "But that's exactly why I fell in love with you. I love you for every part of you, the good and the bad. Don't ever apologise for being you, Feliciano."

"What's going on out here?" America yelled, stepping out to where Germany and Italy were standing. "Oh, shit. You've told him, haven't you?"

"He did." Italy turned to face him. "And you're not hurting him."

"Dude, he can't turn."

"I didn't say that. I said, you're not going to do it."

"He already told me he wouldn't be able to do it himself, we had a deal."

"I'm doing it."

America's eyes widened. "You can't be serious? You think you of all people would be able to shoot Germany dead? You're either stupider than I thought, or you're a psycho!"

"I'm neither. Germany is my fiancé. No one is going to fulfil his last wish but me."

"You're okay with this, Germany?"

"No. Not at all."

"Then why?"

"Italy insisted."

"You'll never be able to do it, Italy. You're too weak."

"America!"

"No, it's fine, Germany. He's right, maybe I am weak, but at least I can give the person I love what he wants." Italy turned to Germany. "For America wouldn't be able to do it if he were in the same position. Isn't that right, America?"

"What?"

Italy turned back to him. "If it was England who had been bitten, would you be able to be his hero?"

"Don't bring him into this. England hasn't been bitten!"

"And you would know that?"

"Italy that's enough. You're upsetting him."

"No. He didn't answer my question. If England was in Germany's position, and wanted to be killed, you wouldn't be able to do it, would you? Because you're not a hero, America."

"Italy!"

Italy stared at America, his heart beating a mile a minute, before he dropped his shoulders and sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, America. I shouldn't have said that. It was cruel."

"You're right though. If I was a hero, Germany wouldn't have been bitten."

"What did you say?"

"America, we agreed not to talk about that."

"It was my fault Germany got bitten. I was scared. They backed me into a corner, Germany came just in time. I saw the Zombie behind him, I tried to scream for him to move, but I couldn't. Nothing came out, I couldn't move. I was paralysed in fear. I wasn't the hero."

Everything was silent for a moment; the only sounds were those of rubbish being blown across the floor. It felt like an eternity of silence, before a loud slap resounded around them. America squeaked in shock, as Italy stood in front of him, chest heaving and anger evident in his eyes.

"I wish it was you," he snarled, shoving America backwards. "Why couldn't you have been bitten instead?!" Italy punched America in the gut repeatedly, screaming at him. "I hate you! This is all your fault!"

"Italy! Feliciano, stop!" Germany shouted, trying to yank the Italian from his place over America's body, but to no avail. Italy used his legs to keep himself over the body.

"What's going on out he- Veneziano?" Romano stopped in front of the scene.

"Stupid. Stupid. You're so stupid!" Italy screeched, continuing his punches. "Why can't you just die instead?!"

"Vene, stop!"

Romano joined Germany, finally managing to pull the angry Italian from America. As soon as Germany's arms wrapped around Italy's body, his tears started, fingers digging harshly into Germany's back. America stayed on the floor, body aching, whilst Romano and Spain stood off to the side, completely dumbfounded by what they'd walked out to.

"Okay, is someone going to tell me what the fuck just happened?" Romano demanded, looking between America, Germany and Italy.

"Is this something to do with what Germany was hiding, Veneziano?" Spain asked, helping America off the ground.

"I'm really sorry, Italy. If I could change things, I would. If I could go back to that moment and change how things happened, I would."

"So the bastard did cheat on him? With you?" Romano glared daggers at the America, hands clenched by his sides.

"Of course I didn't cheat on him," Germany interjected.

"Then explain to me why my brother was beating the shit out of burger bastard here."

"America got Germany bitten," Italy replied, voice muffled by Germany's chest.

"What?"

"I got Germany bitten."

"Wait, you've been bitten?" Romano exclaimed, stepping back into Spain's chest.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Any of you." Germany cleared his throat. "And America, it wasn't your fault."

"Hold on, don't fucking gloss over it as if it's no big deal! You've been bitten! Get away from my brother!"

"I've not turned, Romano. Not yet."

"I'm going to kill him," Italy mumbled, finally pulling himself from Germany. "I won't let him become something he doesn't want to."

"Ita?"

"I'm sorry, America. I shouldn't have snapped like that."

"I deserved it."

"Fuck that! Veneziano, you can't do this. You love him too much."

"Fratello, that's exactly why I need to do this. For Germany. For Luddy."

"I think he can do this, Roma."

"Thank you, Spain." Italy whirled to face Germany. "When do you want to do this? It's completely up to you."

"Tonight."

"So soon?"

"It needs to be done, Feliciano."

"But that's so soon."

"I can feel the virus setting in. I don't want to be alive when it takes over."

"Let's go down to the docks!" Italy exclaimed after a few moments of silence. He took Germany's hand, holding It tightly. "We can go swimming, and have a picnic, and play!" Italy beamed, looking between the other people with him. "All of us."

"Vene, why don't you and Germany go alone? We'll wait here for you, okay? Spend the day with him alone."

"Really, Romano? You guys don't mind?"

"No. Go on, Ita. Spend the day with Germany."

Germany and Italy took a tin of fruit and bottle of water each, before setting off towards the docks. They walked in quiet, their hands intertwined at their side and arms swinging back and forth as Italy hummed a quiet tune under his breath. Germany smiled down at him fondly, squeezing his hand lightly every few seconds.

As soon as they arrived at the docks, Italy stripped off his clothing and without a word to Germany launched himself into the water

"Come on, Luddy!" Feliciano exclaimed, clinging to the side of the dock to keep himself up. "The water feels good!"

"I don't have anything to change into."

"I didn't mean come in with clothes on, silly. Skinny dip with me."

Germany's cheeks heated up as he knelt on the wooden floor. "Feliciano!"

"I mean it! The water feels really good on my naked body, Luddy, but you know what would feel even better?"

"I don't want to know."

"You, Germany. You feel better on my naked body."

"You have no shame, do you?"

"Not at all. Now, remove those bulky clothes and come swimming with me."

Germany hesitated for a moment, his eyes following Italy through the water as Italy floated away from the dock on his back, before he too pulled his clothes off the climbed into the deep water below. He couldn't deny that the water did indeed feel good against his skin, the coldness in contrast to the warmth of the air outside.

"You're in!" Italy latched himself onto Germany, his legs wrapping around Germany's waist.

"You're very naked," Germany deadpanned, his hands resting lightly on Italy's waist, keeping them both afloat.

"You act like this is the first time you've seen me naked."

"I've seen you naked more times than I'll ever care to admit, Feliciano."

"I haven't seen you naked nearly enough, Germany," Italy said, pulling away from him. "Let's swim!"

"Wait, Feliciano!"

* * *

 

Germany settled on the wood, legs stretched out and forearms holding his body up, the hot sun beating down on his pale skin. Italy sat cross-legged in front of him, smiling so widely, one could almost believe the smile was real. Germany though, could see right through it.

"What will you do?" Germany asked quietly, sitting up properly to take the tin of fruit Italy held out towards him.

"What do you mean?"

"After tonight. Where will you go? What will you all do?"

"Oh." Italy's smile faded. "I don't know. America's going to find England, maybe we'll go with him. Safety in numbers and all that."

"Yeah. You'll have a good chance if you're with my brother, he'll protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Ludwig. I'll be okay. I must survive, for you. I know you'll never forgive me if I give up now."

"Don't push yourself though. Can you do me a favour if you do join up with England?"

"Of course."

"Look after my brother, Japan too. If you find Austria throughout this, him too. I don't want anyone I care about, anyone who cares about me, to lose their life." Germany's voice cracked, but no tears fell from his watery eyes.

"I will do that. I promise."

"But don't forget to look after yourself, Feliciano."

"Hey, Ludwig?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think this nightmare will end?"

"When all the things have been killed, and people stop getting bitten, yes. I do believe eventually it will end, and you'll live happily ever after."

"Happily is pushing it," Italy mumbled, prying open his can of fruit.

"You're Feliciano, you will be happy."

"You think just because I'm still me I'll just be happy once this is over? You're really stupid if you believe that, Luddy."

"You might think that now, but eventually you'll be happy again. You'll have your brother, Spain, everyone who cares about you."

"Except you. I won't have you. The most important person in my life will be gone, how can you expect me to get past that? Sure, maybe while we're still fighting for our lives I can forget, but when this all ends? You'll be the only thing I can think about. I'll never get over you."

"I'm not saying you'll get over me, I'm just saying you can be happy again."

Italy shook his head, sighing loudly. "You don't understand, Ludwig. You won't have to live without the love of your life. The one person you trust over the entire world. I do. I have to live with that, I have to continue living without you, smiling is never going to be the first thing on my mind."

"Please, just try."

"What do you think comes after the death of a nation?" Italy questioned, changing the subject.

"I'm not sure. I'd like to think the same as humans."

"What do you believe in, Ludwig?"

"I don't really know, I want to believe in Heaven and Hell, I'm just not sure I do anymore. I don't really want to believe in it."

"Why not? Heaven must be magical!"

Germany bit his lip. "I don't think I'd go to Heaven, Feliciano. I don't think any of us nations would." Germany wiped at his brow. "We've all done terrible things in our past. Brutal murder, mass murder. You name it, and most of us have done the crime. How can any of us expect to end up in Heaven? And even before this started, nations are still at each other's throats."

"I think God would be more lenient with us. It's not like those wars were our fault. We never had a choice in them, we were forced into it. Just like any other innocent soldier dragged into a war that had nothing to do with them. Do you believe they were sent to hell for killing?"

"It's not the same thing, Feliciano. Some solider were entirely innocent, forced into it. But we aren't innocent, we did things. We did terrible things; how can we ever expect forgiveness?"

"But we're good people."

"Are we?"

"Yes. We've all done bad things, but overall, we're good people. God isn't going to punish us for doing what we were told. Even the nations who hurt without being told to, are good people. We've lived for a very long time; I think we'll get a one-way ticket to Heaven just for enduring so many years of life."

"You think?"

"Yep! I think we'll all go to the place each nation believes in. The best place."

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"Reassuring me. I'm ready, Feliciano."

"Ready?"

"To die. I wasn't sure I was, but now I know. Let's get dressed and go back, I'm sure the others are wondering where we've got to."

"Can we just cuddle for a little while before we go back?"

Germany spread his arms out, Italy crawled between Germany's legs, his back pressing against Germany's firm chest. Germany's arms encased him, squeezing him tightly against his body and resting his head on Italy's.

Italy breathed out, fingers tracing patterns over the soft skin of the arms tightly around him. "I'm going to miss thing most, I think," Italy mumbled.

"What?"

"Your arms around me. Making me feel so entirely safe."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, Luddy."

* * *

 

When the two nations finally joined the others, Romano was the first to greet them an almost sad smile on his face. Spain stood beside him, hand on his shoulder, while America was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's America?" Italy asked, pulling Germany towards his brother and Spain.

"Haven't seen him since we found you beating the shit out of him this morning," Romano replied.

"Oh. I wanted to apologise for that."

"Don't. Bastard deserved it."

"Do you two want dinner?" Spain questioned, smiling at Italy. "We prepared something for the two of you, it's nothing much, but it's the best meal either of you have had in a long time."

"Ve, sounds good! Aren't you two joining us?"

"No. We've already eaten. Go through to the main room, Spagna and I will bring it through in a moment."

Italy dragged Germany into the main room. He gasped when the door opened, a small table had been place in the middle of the room, a candle lit on top. Two pillows sat either side of the table. "A candle lit dinner? How long has it been since we had one of these, Luddy?" Italy scampered into the room, settling on one of the pillows.

"The night before you left my country, I believe," Germany replied, sitting on the pillow opposite Italy. "You forced me to do that stupid lady and the tramp kiss with the spaghetti." Germany smiled fondly at the Italian. "It was utterly humiliating."

"I remember that! You were so red!" Italy giggled. "We held hands on the table all evening though!"

"We did do that." Germany placed a hand on the table. "Perhaps we should do a repeat of that."

Italy happily put his hand in Germany's. "I'd be happy too."

A few moments later, Spain and Romano walk in, Spain holding two glasses of a red liquid, and Romano a small plate of spaghetti.

"Pasta!" Italy yelled when Romano set the plate down. "Where did you find pasta?!"

"We searched all day for it, you better be grateful."

"Oh I am, Romano! Thank you!"

"Ja. Thank you."

"Is this wine?" Italy asked, sniffing the red liquid.

"Sí," Spain replied. "It's not very good wine, but it's wine nonetheless."

"This is amazing, thank you so much, both of you!"

"Whatever. Come on, Spagna."

"Don't you think it's weird that we haven't seen any other people while we've been here?" Italy asked once they were alone again.

"Not really, they've probably fled, or died."

"We haven't seen any Zombies either though, and I saw a few people when I came here to meet you."

"They probably just left."

"I wonder how the rest of the world is? Can you still feel your country inside of you?"

Germany touched a hand to his heart. "No. I stopped feeling it a few days ago. I don't know if that's because Germany is gone, or just a side-effect of this damn virus though."

"At least if Germany has gone, you know Prussia wasn't there anymore."

"Yeah, that's true."

"Can you feel him?"

"What?"

"Me and Romano, we're connected, or at least we were before Italy became nothing. Are you connected to Prussia?"

"No. I couldn't feel what he felt if that's what you're asking." Germany twirled some pasta around his fork, and put it in his mouth. "Nor were our emotions connected," he said after he swallowed his mouthful. "Are you and Romano still connected?"

"I don't think so. I guess the connection severs when the country is gone."

"Will you try to build Italy back up once this is over?"

"No. I'm going to travel over the world finding survivors, and set up a place for everyone."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I'll have help from other Nations. I'm sure any surviving Nations will be happy to help we rebuild a place for everyone to live happily together."

"Happily and the human-race are three words that don't mix, Feliciano. There are always going to be people willing to ruin it for the rest."

"Don't be so cynical, Luddy. The world will be a better place when this ends. Why would anyone want to cause more pain and suffering than what's already happened? Not even the humans are that bad. When this is over, and the Zombies are gone, everyone will come together and make a nicer place to live."

"I hope you're right."

"When am I ever wrong?"

"Quite often actually."

Italy pouted, slurping some pasta into his mouth. Germany smiled at him, wiping his thumb across Italy's lip, ridding it of the splashed tomato sauce. The two ate the rest of the small meal in an almost silence, the only sound being from Italy's quiet humming.

* * *

 

"That was yummy!" Italy exclaimed, stretching back and rubbing his stomach. "I hadn't had pasta is too long! Did you like it, Luddy?"

"It was very nice, yes."

Italy squeezed Germany's hand over the table. "What do you want to do now?" He blew out the candle between them. "We could go for another walk, go to that park again! Or, or, we could go and cuddle in bed!"

"Feliciano, it's time."

"No. No it's not!"

"It's getting dark out, I don't want you outside after dark."

"I'm not a child! It's not time, please, just a few more minutes!"

"No, Italy. A few more minutes will turn into a few more minutes, then that will turn into a few hours, then a few days. It needs to be done."

" _Please_ ," Italy begged, squeezing his hand tighter. "Not yet."

"Come on, Feliciano, you said you'd be able to do this."

"I can! Just not yet."

"You knew this was coming."

"I know." Italy sighed. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Come on." Germany pulled Italy to his feet. "It'll be okay. I won't feel a thing."

"As long as I shoot correctly. What if I miss the part of the brain that kills you?"

"You've had a lot of practice with a gun, I trust you."

Germany and Italy walked out of the room, and towards the courtyard. Romano and Spain ran to join them.

"Thank you for the dinner, Spain, Romano." Germany smiled weakly. "It was truly very nice."

"Bastard."

"It's time," Italy said, looking down at his feet. "It's time."

"Already?"

Germany nodded. "It's getting dark, we should leave time for you to do something with my body so you're not all out during dark."

Romano breathed out heavily, clutching Spain's hand. "Vene, are you sure you can do this? Spagna will do it if you can't."

"No. I'm fine. Get me a gun."

Romano placed a handgun in Italy's outstretched hand. "You can close your eyes, Spagna will help you aim."

"I don't want too."

"Feliciano," Germany said softly, placing his hands on Italy's shoulders. "Remember, keep a steady hand."

"I am!"

"Your hands are shaking. You need to keep it steady."

Italy stilled his hands. "Ti amo, Ludwig. Ti amo tanto."

"Ich liebe dich, Feliciano Vargas. It's been a pleasure to know you." Germany voice cracked, tears spilling down his face. "I'm so glad we met."

"Even though I was really annoying?" Italy fiercely wiped tears from his cheeks. "Even though I was always getting naked, and constantly talked about pasta and climbed into your bed without permission?"

"I wouldn't change any of that for the world." Germany pressed a kiss to Italy's lips. "If I could go back in time and put up with all of that again, I would a thousand times over. You were my first real friend, my first love."

Italy wrapped his arms around Germany's neck, pressing their lips together in a wet, tear filled kiss. Germany's hands rubbed Italy's sides, comforting him as best he could before he pulled away.

"Come on, it's now or never."

Feliciano nodded. "Ti amo."

"Ich liebe dich." Germany stepped away, putting some distance between him and Italy. "Remember, keep a steady hand."

Romano placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We'll be right behind you, okay?"

"Thank you." Italy wiped the last of his tears, before lifting the gun to point it at his boyfriend. "I'm so sorry this happened to you of all people, Luddy."

"Don't worry about me." Germany nodded, readying himself. "Just pull the trigger."

Italy stood there for a moment, heart racing in his chest. His hands shook violently, tears obscuring his vision. He tried to breathe, tried to calm himself down, but it was like all air had been knocked from him. Italy breathed hard and fast, panic setting into his veins. He couldn't do it. He dropped the gun to the floor, falling to his knees seconds later. With his hands braced against the floor, loud sobs emitting from him, no one knew what to do. Spain, Romano and Germany stared at him in shook, feet glued to the ground.

"I'm sorry!" Italy cried, slamming his fist into the ground. "I can't! I can't shoot him."

Romano stepped forward, dropping down beside his brother. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Vene. I wouldn't be able to if it was Antonio," he whispered, pulling his brother into a hug. "You're not weak for this. Let Spain do it, okay? He'll get it done fast, Germany won't feel a thing."

Italy nodded, letting himself be pulled to his feet and led back to Spain without a word. Germany stood silently, hands behind his back.

"You have to do it, Antonio."

"Lovi?"

"Make sure you do it properly, I don't want him to feel anything," Romano said, cradling his brother against his chest. "He doesn't deserve to feel anything. It needs to be painless for him. He deserves that."

Spain glanced at Germany. "Of course. He's being very brave." Spain took a step forwards, and picked the gun up. "I'm sorry he couldn't do it, Germany."

Germany shook his head. "It's no wonder. I wouldn't be able to either." He turned to face Italy, who was now looking at him, amber eyes wide. "Italy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me one last favour?"

Italy nodded.

"Smile."

"What?"

"Can you smile for me? I want that to be the last thing I see."

Italy forced a weak smile. "Like this?"

"Wider." Germany watched Italy's mouth curve into a large smile. "Danke."

"Are you ready?" Spain asked, pointing the gun towards Germany's head.

"I'm ready. Thank you all for this."

"Wait," Romano spoke up. "Germany?"

"Ja?"

"Thank you. For looking after my brother," he mumbled, rubbing his arm sheepishly. "I appreciate everything you've done for him."

"My pleasure."

"I'm going to shoot now."

Germany breathed out, eyes locked on Feliciano. Spain steadied his own shaking hands, lip between his teeth. Romano stood behind, arm around his brother, comfortingly rubbing his arm. Just as Spain was about to pull the trigger, Italy screamed, launching himself at the German.

"No! You can't die!" He screamed, arms wrapped tightly around him. Germany tried to push him away, hushed whispers of encouragement could be heard.

"Romano! Get him!" Spain yelled, gun still pointed at the German. Romano nodded, sprinting towards the pair, ignoring the pain shooting through his hip, he wrapped his arms tightly around Feliciano, yanking him away. Italy screamed loudly in rapid Italian, words merging together in unintelligible sentences. Germany ignored his own tears rolling down his red cheeks.

"Fucking calm down, Veneziano! And keep smiling!"

Italy kicked and pushed at his brother, trying to scramble out of his iron tight grip. "I don't want him to die!"

"I know you don't, but fucking hell it's happening. Now smile at him, and let him die with that memory. Stop being to fucking selfish."

Italy did smile. He smiled up until the moment Germany's mouthing of 'Ich liebe dich' was cut off by the bullet imbedding itself in his head. Germany fell instantly, his body causing a loud thump against the concrete floor. Italy stood there for a moment, Romano's arms still wrapped tightly around his waist. He felt his heart constricting in his chest.

"I think I'm having a heart attack," Italy cried out, hand digging deeply into the skin over his heart. "It hurts!"

Spain ran to them, gun dropped to the ground in the same fashion Italy had just minutes ago. Spain pulled the two Italy's into a tight hug, keeping the Northern Italy held steady between their bodies.

"What is this?" Italy clutched at his chest.

"What do you want to do with his body?" Spain asked quietly, thumb wiping away tears from Romano's face. "It's completely up to you, Ita."

Italy didn't reply, instead he wiggled from their grip and sprinted towards the man on the floor. He fell to the floor beside him, hands grasping his clothes tightly into fistfuls. Italy dropped his head against Germany's chest, loud sobs echoing around him.

"What should we do?" Romano questioned Spain.

"Give him a moment."

"Do you think he'll be okay?"

"You know what? I don't know." Spain intertwined their fingers. "But we'll do our best to look after him, right?"

Romano smiled sadly. "Yeah. We will."

* * *

 

It was completely dark out when Italy stopped crying, wiped his bloodied hands on his trousers and stood up. Spain and Romano had settled themselves on the ground a few paces away, watching him through tired eyes.

"I want to burn him. I don't want anything, or anyone, to be able to get their hands on his body. For tonight, we'll keep his body here, and tomorrow we'll look for a boat or something to send him out to sea."

"Are you sure that's what you want to do, Feliciano?"

"I'm positive." He sighed. "I'm going to bed. Please don't leave him out here."

"We'll get him somewhere safe, don't worry. Romano, why don't you go with Veneziano tonight? I think he needs you more than I do."

"No." Italy interjected. "I'm fine by myself. I'm strong, remember? I can be alone."

"I really think you should have someone with you tonight, Ita."

"I really am okay. I'll see you both in the morning."

Italy turned his back on them without another word, and walked away to the room he'd shared with Germany. As soon as the door shut behind him, his tears started again. Italy fell onto the bed, and curled into himself. He could still smell Germany's unforgettable scent on the covers around him, masculine and comforting.

He was drifting off to sleep when something caught his eye on the dusty beside table. A small red box sat there, drawing him in. Italy sat up, then crawled across the bed to get a closer look. Under the box was the drawing Italy had given Germany the night before, and beside it was a note. Italy picked the note up.

_Feliciano,_

_I got this while still in Italy. A nice jewellery store hadn't been raided so I made a pit stop on my way to see you. Consider it a late birthday present. I wanted to give it to you myself, but that's not possible. I hope you find this and remember no matter where I am, I'm with you. I'll be watching over you forever._

_Ich liebe dich,_

_Ludwig_

It placed the note back down, and picked the small velvet box up. He flipped the lid. Inside was a small plain silver ring. Italy pulled it out, admiring it, before he slipped it onto his finger. "It doesn't fit," he whispered, trying the ring on every finger, finding it too big for any of them. "I'll keep it in my bag for now. Thank you, Ludwig."

* * *

 

Spain set Germany's body in the small boat, pillows and blankets surrounding him. He lit a match, before throwing it into the boat and kicking it out to sea. Italy sat on the dock, his head on Romano's shoulder, silent tears running down his face. Spain sat on the other side of him, taking Veneziano's hand in his own.

"He's at peace now, Feliciano," Spain murmured.

Italy couldn't ignore the smell piercing through the wind. The acrid smell of copper, and an almost sweet smell. Italy had never burning a body, he didn't know it would smell almost like a barbeque, resulting in his stomach growling loudly. He was disgusted, horrified at the fact. He couldn't ignore the charcoal smell on top of that. Italy gagged, leaning his head over the water and emptying his stomach in the water below. Spain rubbed his back, humming quietly into his ear.

They watched the burning boat float further out to sea, smoke rising high into the sky, the acrid smell surrounding them, making their stomachs turn.

America watched from a far, he could no longer see Germany's body, or the boat, the smoke too thick in the air. He wanted to go and help comfort Italy, but he knew he wouldn't be welcomed with open arms. Italy turned to face him, sending him a small smile and waving him over, surprising America entirely. America slowly made his way to the three.

Italy stood up to meet him, hand covering his nose to block out the smell. "I don't blame you, America. I shouldn't have snapped yesterday; you didn't purposely get Germany bitten. It was an accident. A terrible, heart-breaking accident, but an accident nonetheless. No one can save everyone." Italy paused, glancing out at sea. "You should go though. England will be worried sick about you. No doubt you haven't been able to contact him through all of this."

"I'll be gone before you get back to the safe place," America replied. "I really am sorry."

"Don't be. Germany's better off now, he's safe."

"Goodbye, Italy."

"Goodbye, America."

Without another word, Italy walked away to settle back down between his brother and Spain. America stood there for a moment more before turning on his heel and walking away.

* * *

 

Italy looked up at the stars, the sky now clear of smoke. He'd been sitting there for hours, Spain and Romano had fallen asleep against the wood, cuddled up together. Italy leant back on his hands.

"I hope you're happy now, Germany. I hope you're up there with Grandpa Rome, looking down on me. I'll never forget you, Luddy. Ever."


	21. Chapter Twenty - South Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone is still around for this story, but I'm back! For the past year, I've had terrible writer's block for this story, but I'm finally out!

A week. A week since Germany's death. A week since America left. A week since Romano had seen his brother crack even the slightest of a smile. Romano missed him. He wouldn't lie about it, he missed the German potato. More specifically he missed how Germany made Feliciano feel. He misses his brother smiling.

Romano sighed, leaning further into Antonio's warm embrace.

"You awake, Lovi?" Antonio whispered into the darkness.

"I'm awake," he confirmed, pressing a light kiss on his boyfriend's shoulder. "What time is it?"

"It's still dark out, I'm guessing it's still early."

"Is Feli gone?"

Antonio craned his neck to look at the bed beside them. "No, he's still there."

"Good." Since Germany's death, Romano had been especially protective of his little brother, knowing full-well Feliciano was likely to do something stupid in his depressive state. He knew what he would do had it been Spain, and he and his brother were more alike than he'd like to admit.

"We need to start thinking about moving on from here, Lovino. We need to find others, more survivors."

Lovino scoffed. "What survivors? If us nations can die, there's no hope for the people. It's only a matter of time before we're all gone."

"Don't say that," Antonio snapped. "We're going to be okay because we've got each other."

"So you keep saying."

"I don't want to fight about this today, Lovino."

"You started it."

"I'm just saying, there are others. Our friends are out there somewhere, we need to find them."

"Why? We're safe here. We've had no encounters, we have food, shelter, warm beds, why do we need to leave?"

"And how long do you think this'll last? A month? Two? The food won't last forever, and eventually, they're going to come. We should pack up the food and move on. I want to find Francis, Gil. Gilbert deserves to know about his brother."

"And America will tell him when he finds England. I don't see why we have to go to them too."

"They're my friends, Lovino. I want to be there for Gilbert. He'll be heartbroken."

"Yeah, and he's got several other friends with him. Why do you need to be there too?"

Antonio pulled away from Lovino to sit up. "You don't get it. I  _want_  to be with them, Lovino! You may not have any friends, but I do, and I want to see them. Make sure they're all okay."

"Screw you, Antonio!"

"What's going on?" Feliciano groaned, rolling over in his bed.

"Go back to sleep!" Both Antonio and Lovino shouted, glaring daggers at the other man.

Romano sighed. "Sorry, Feli, nothing, nothing is going on. Let's go get some breakfast."

Feliciano's eyes flicked between them before nodding. He climbed out of bed, and followed Lovino out of the room, leaving Antonio behind.

Feliciano tugged on the back of Lovino's shirt. "Fratello, what happened?"

"Nothing, Feli, just forget it, okay? After breakfast you need to pack up, we're moving on."

"Already?"

"We've been here too long already. We need to find the others."

"Oh, okay. I would like to find Gilbert."

"So would Antonio."

Breakfast was a quiet meal. The three men ate in silence, Antonio and Lovino refusing to meet each other's eyes, and Feliciano sitting uncomfortably on the sidelines. Packing up was even quieter, Lovino shoved his stuff in his bag, glaring at Antonio every time he looked up.

* * *

 

They'd been walking for an hour when Feliciano finally cracked. "Enough!" He hissed, stepping between the bickering couple. They'd been arguing about which way to go since they set off and Feliciano had had enough. "Do you tow realise just how lucky you are?!"

"What?"

"You still have each other! You're still together! Why do you constantly fight? How can you fight at a time like this? You need to make the most of each other, 'cause you don't know when one of you is going to be lost!" Feliciano sobbed, gripping his chest, trying to stop his racing heart. "You have no idea, none!"

Romano stared at his brother, then turned to Antonio. "He's right. One of us could die tomorrow, I wouldn't want us to end on bad terms." He turned back to Feliciano, who was staring at them expectantly. "I'm sorry, Feli, I didn't even think about that. I know you must wish you could fight with Germany. I know you wish he was here." He held his arms out, letting his little brother fall into the protection of him. "I wish he were here too. I wish he could be here to make you happy."

Feliciano sobbed into his shoulder, clinging tightly to Romano.

"Hate to break this up, but I think we have company," Antonio whispered, stepping closer to the brothers. "Arm yourselves." Antonio cocked his gun, pointing it towards the trees at the side of the road. "Keep walking, don't stop."

The Italy brothers nodded, and began to walk, their own guns pointed ahead of them. None of them spoke. They didn't want to risk bringing attention to themselves. They moved, in short, precise steps guns held out in front of them, pointing at the trees that surrounded them.

"Nothing's coming," Feliciano whispered, breaking the tense silence.

"I heard twigs cracking, even if nothing has come yet, keep moving and keep armed, we don't want to be ambushed."

Veneziano nodded, staying close to the two men. "How will we know when we can stop being cautious?"

"We can never stop being cautious, Vene, we're in constant danger."

"You know what I meant."

"The trees stop further up this road, only then can we stop being on edge," Spain replied, eyes flicking over the trees. "Can't be ambushed if there's nowhere for them to come from."

The three nations continued through the road, stepping over dead bodies and piles of what they could only imagine was vomit.

"Is this human sick?" Veneziano asked, staring down at the pile. "Or Zombie?"

"Can Zombie's even vomit?"

"Now that's a question I don't want to know the answer to." Lovino grimaced, shaking his head. "Who cares who or what this belongs to, I can see flesh in it, and I don't want to think about non-zombie humans eating us too. Let's just keep moving."

"You think there are people eating people? You know, ones that aren't actual zombies?" Veneziano's voiced was laced with more fear.

"I just said I don't want to think about that, Feliciano."

"B-but what if there is? What if we can't even trust the unbitten anymore? What if they've gone crazy from lack of food?"

"Feliciano, shut up," Romano hissed, punching his brother in the arm. "You're just scaring yourself, I wish I hadn't said anything." He sighed. "Look, there are no unbitten people eating humans, I promise, okay?"

"How can you know?"

"I just do. Antonio, tell him."

"Lovino's right, Feli, just the zombies. Don't worry yourself with that sort of thing. We can trust the unbitten."

Feliciano nodded, even if he wasn't convinced. Romano felt bad lying to his brother, he knew there probably was unbitten people eating others, the lack of food will do that to you, but he wouldn't tell his brother that, he'd keep it to himself, let his brother's mind rest a little at least.

* * *

 

They made it past the trees with no harm. Nothing emerged, no zombie shuffled its way through onto the road they were walking on. Feliciano fixed his gun back into its holster, as did Romano, while Spain kept his out, just to be on the safe side.

"Do you think America made it to England and the rest?" Feliciano asked as they sat down on a bench on the side of the road. They'd been walking for a good two hours since the woods, they were exhausted.

"I hope so," Antonio replied, digging through his bag for a tin of beans. "I hope they're all okay."

"Do you think Gilbert knows? That Ludwig is dead, I mean."

Romano nodded. "I do. I think he'd feel it. Being a brother does that to you."

"Would you know if I died?"

"I believe I would, yes."

"Would you care?"

Romano glared at his little brother. "I'd be heartbroken, Feli. You're my brother, a piece of me."

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to him, Lovi," Spain teased, elbowing his boyfriend.

"Shut up, shithead. I'm just being honest."

"Would Lovi care if I died?"

Romano froze, eyes locked on Spain's. "I'd break," he answered, finally. "I wouldn't be able to go on. My life would end with you."

"Shit, fratello," Feliciano said, eyes wide.

"Me too, Lovi, me too." Was all Antonio could reply with, eyes welling up with tears. "I suppose we just gotta promise none of us will die, deal?" Antonio held his hand out for Lovino.

"Deal," the brothers replied, locking fingers with the person next to them.

* * *

 

Finding shelter for the night was difficult. All buildings they came across were crumbled and broken, or the roof had holes in it.

"Looks like it's going to be a cold night," Antonio said, scuffing his feet across the floor.

"Stop that," Lovino scolded. "You're going to ruin the only shoes you have. We can survive, it's not that cold out, anyway. We have blankets in the bag, and our own body temperatures will be enough."

"And we can make a fire!" Feliciano piped in, swinging his arms back and forth.

"Exactly. We'll be fine, Toni."

"Okay. This one will do then," he said, pointing at the big building they were standing outside of. "We should think about looking for a tent or something, though."

"Too dangerous, a building is big enough for us to know if something is there, in a tent, we'd be sitting ducks. Buildings, corroded or not, are our best options."

"What if we're in a place with no buildings?"

"Just sitting in the open is better than a tent. In a tent there's only one way in and out, plus, getting out is a pain, we wouldn't be able to get away fast enough. It's a silly idea."

"I didn't think of that," Antonio admitted, slinging his arm around Lovino as they sat down on the dirty carpet. "We'll stay here till it's light out, then we move on, okay?"

"Yeah. First though, I'm starving, let's eat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So I don't think anyone will be interested, but I've decided I want to try opening commissions for stories? If you're interested, let me know, I guess


	22. Chapter Twenty-One - South Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to make it very clear. I have literally no idea where they even are at this point. I think they're still in France and making their way North. I don't know where they're heading. It's all just by what I feel like writing at any given point. I should have researched it better if I'm honest.

Romano woke with a start, sweat covered his body, making his clothes stick to him uncomfortably. Spain was still asleep, hand in Romano's hair, and Feliciano was standing by the window, gun in hand.

"Vene, what are you doing?" Romano asked, shifting from his place in Spain's lap.

"I thought I heard something." He replied, not looking away from the window. "I think it was a false alarm though, I can't see anything."

"Isn't that how this all started?" Romano moved to stand next to his brother, glancing over the outside. "With you hearing something?"

"I saw something back then. I can't believe that was so long ago now."

"Feels longer. Days seem to be slowing down."

"That's just your imagination, it's always been slow."

"How long have you been awake?" Romano asked, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Have you been getting any sleep?"

Feliciano forced a smile. "I'm getting enough, fratello."

Romano sighed, staring out the window. "You know, we haven't spoken about him for a while."

"What's there to say? He's gone, Romano, it's over for him."

"Not him, I meant Romeo."

"Oh… You're right. I've been so focused on not dying, I haven't really thought about him." He scratched the back of his neck. "I hope he's okay."

"I'm sure he's being protected like one of their own," Romano reassured. "He spent a lot of time with Sealand after all. I'm sure he's fine."

"I can't believe I had just forgotten about my own family…" Feliciano glanced at Romano. "We're terrible."

"He'll understand. We have to think of the people we're with now, I'm sure he's not thinking about us either."

Silence fell over them after that. Veneziano continued to watch out of the window, while Romano stood against the wall, watching Spain toss and turn in his restless sleep.

* * *

 A few more hours passed before the light started appearing from behind the clouds. Neither of the brothers had spoken, both thinking about their own things.

"You should wake him, we'll be leaving soon," Feliciano finally said, startling Romano slightly. "We should eat then get going."

Romano nodded, pushing himself up from the floor and heading towards his sleeping boyfriend. He shook Antonio lightly, then harder when Antonio didn't wake. Antonio groaned, wrapping his arms around Lovino's neck, and pulling him down against his chest. "Good morning, handsome," he mumbled into his hair.

"Morning," Romano replied, leaning up to kiss his jaw. "It's time to eat before we move on." He let Antonio cuddle him for a few more moments, before pushing himself up and back onto his feet. "Pack the bags, I'll get the food sorted."

Antonio nodded, sitting up. "Morning, Feliciano!"

Feliciano smiled at him. He'd been watching them, feeling both happy and heartbroken at the same time. He was glad Romano had Spain with him still. He wasn't sure Romano could cope without him. "Mornin'."

* * *

 Ten minutes later, and the three were ready to move on. Once again Feliciano walked ahead of them on full alert, ready for anything. Romano walked in the middle, bag slung over his shoulder, his own gun holstered on his waist, and Spain walked behind, gun also in hand.

Spain wasn't a fan of walking in silence. It was one thing that was driving him insane with all the walking they were doing. He knew walking in silence was best, the more noise they make the higher chance they'll get ambushed, but that doesn't stop him attempting conversation with the brothers.

"Hey, Lovi, Vene, let's play I-spy."

"As if," Romano scoffed, looking over his shoulder. "I'm already tired of walking, why would I waste energy on a stupid game?"

"To make walking more fun."

"I'll play," Veneziano piped up, stopping in his tracks for the others to catch up. "I'll go first."

"You have to be kidding me?"

"Just play along, Romano, it'll make time go faster."

He glared at his brother but gave in. "Fine. Whatever."

"Okay. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'b'."

Romano and Spain took it in turns to guess until one of them got it, and when they did, it was the next person's turn. Even though he spent the entire time complaining, Romano found playing the game did in fact help with walking. They'd made good progress in the time they'd been playing, and by the time it was lunchtime, they had already almost made it to their destination for the night.

When they finished lunch, Spain suggested Feliciano and Lovino have a short nap before they leave, to which Feliciano agreed and settle down on the floor. Lovino refused, and chose to sit down on a rock instead, insisting he wasn't doing it to look out for his brother, but because he wasn't tired. Spain knew it was a lie, but he didn't push it, he just sat down beside him and took his hand.

They let Feliciano sleep for about an hour before they woke him up, and when they did Feliciano finally looked more awake than they'd seen him in a long time. Romano mentioned this, but Veneziano brushed him off, telling him he'd been imagining things. He packed the blankets away, then set off ahead of them.

"He's not sleeping at night," Romano said to Spain as they both watching Feliciano skip along the road. "You've noticed it too, right?"

"Yeah. I suppose it's the nightmares." Spain sighed. "I'll stay up tonight, let him get some sleep."

"We both will. It's going to do none of us any good if he exhausts himself past being able to move. He needs to be alert."

"You need sleep, Roma, I'll look out for both of you, don't worry."

"I do worry, Antonio, I worry a lot. I worry about if we're even going to make it to tomorrow. I think I'm right to be worrying."

With his empty hand, Spain locked his fingers with Romano's. "I know, Lovi. We'll make it. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you or your brother. You have my word."

Romano forced a smile. "Don't make promises you probably can't keep. It'll be me making sure you don't die." He bumped their shoulders lightly.

"I most definitely will keep it."

"Yeah, yeah."

* * *

 They had been lucky in their travels, no zombies had blind-sighted them. In fact, they'd only seen one or two all day, and even then, they'd been so far away that they got past without having to lift a finger.

Romano was thankful they were basically in the middle of nowhere, save for a few derelict buildings here and there. Safe spaces as Spain would call them. Romano disagreed, he didn't feel any safer inside them than he did outside of them.

"We can keep moving you know, it's still light out," Feliciano said, coming tugging on Romano's arm.

"We don't know where the next building will be, we can't risk it. There aren't any lights around here, if we get stuck out in the open when it's dark we could get hurt. It's best we stay here till morning. I'm sure tomorrow we can make it to the next village or town if we just keep walking," Spain replied, dropping the bag from his shoulder.

"Maybe we could get to one before it gets dark," Feliciano insisted.

"Feliciano, we have no idea where we even are. We don't know where the next town or village even is. We also don't know if electricity will be working there. We can't risk getting stuck in the dark with a bunch of disgusting things that want to eat us and have an impeccable sense of smell."

Feliciano sighed, letting go of his brother's arm. "Okay, fine, we'll stay here. I just hope we can make it to the next place soon."

Romano patted Feliciano's arm. "Come on, Feli, you can get some proper sleep tonight, okay?"

"I've been sleeping."

"No, you haven't. Me and Toni will stay up tonight, you get some deserved rest."

Feliciano looked between them before nodding. "Okay, I'll take you up on that."

"Good. Let's eat then sleep."

Antonio pulled the bag into his lap, emptying out the blankets around them, then hesitated before pulling out a can of beans. Romano squinted at him but didn't say anything. "You two share this, I'm not actually very hungry."

"You need to eat, Antonio," Romano said, eyeing his boyfriend suspiciously.

"I'll eat later if I get hungry."

He wanted to push it further, but the look on Antonio's face told him to just drop it, so he did. He and Feliciano tucked into the beans. Romano would put spoons of it towards Spain, and Spain would shake his head, telling Romano to eat them himself.

* * *

 It didn't take long for Feliciano to fall asleep in a heap of blankets, his light snores being the only sound to fill the echoing room.

Romano didn't say anything, back leaning against Spain's chest, head on his shoulder as they watched the sunset out of the dirty window. He could feel Spain's chest moving with each breath, and the occasional press of Spain's lips over his temple. It was comfortable. For the first time in a long time, Romano felt like they were back in Spain, watching the sunset from the beach. He knew it wouldn't last. He knew Spain had kept something from him, something he would pry out of him in the morning, but for now… for now he would continue to sit in Spain's lap, content.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two - Spain

All things considered, Romano felt comfortable that morning watching the sunrise with Spain, him still sitting between Spain's legs. Spain ran his fingers daintily over Romano's arm, a comforting motion. They hadn't spoken all night, and Romano knew his voice would be croaky when he inevitably did speak.

Romano wanted to break the silence. They only had an hour or so before Feliciano would wake up and he'd lose his chance to talk privately with Spain about the night before, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew what Spain would most likely say, he knew the food was scarce. It was the only explanation for Spain's bullshit excuse for not eating at all, even though Romano himself had heard the groans from Spain's stomach during the night.

Ten minutes pass before Spain breaks the silence, shifting Romano from his lap and telling him he's going to the bathroom. Romano watches him go, eyes following him until he was out of sight, and remained on the door until Spain walked back in, safe.

"Should we wake Veneziano?" Spain asked, glancing at the younger brother. "We should get moving soon."

Romano sighed. "I want to talk to you first, sit down."

Spain hesitated for a second but sat down opposite Romano. "What's up?"

"I think you know what's up. Why didn't you eat yesterday? You're starving, I can hear your stomach rumbling."

"I'm not hungry, I just have a bad stomach. I'm not used to so many tinned foods, you know me, I like it fresh."

"Bullshit!" Romano snapped. "You're a terrible liar. We're running out, aren't we?"

"We have enough."

"For how long? A day? Two?"

"We'll be fine as long as we make it to somewhere with food in the next few days."

"And if we don't?"

Spain shrugged. "I don't know. We just need to eat a meal less."

"You have to eat too though. We need you at full strength, not half or less. You're having breakfast whether you like it or not. I'll force it down your throat if you try to get out of it."

"Morning." Their conversation was cut off by Veneziano.

"Don't say anything," Romano hissed at Spain before turning to his brother. "Morning. Sleep well?"

"Yes, I feel very rested today."

"Good. Let's eat some breakfast and get going then." In silence, Spain set out a small amount of food for them all, before tucking in. Romano watched Spain shove the food in, not so subtly for someone pretending not to be hungry.

"What's wrong, fratello?"

"Nothing, Vene. I need the bathroom." He stood up. "Spain, have mine, I'm not hungry." With that Romano picked up his gun and left the room as quick as possible. Spain sighed, glancing down at the food Romano had left.

"Make sure Romano eats that when he gets back, Veneziano." Spain stood up too, swallowing down his last mouthful. "I'm going to go explore the woods a bit, I might be able to find some edibles."

"Should you really go on your own?"

"I'll be fine. My gun is fully loaded. If I'm not back in twenty minutes, go on without me. I'll catch up."

"As if Romano would leave you behind."

"Force him if you have to."

Veneziano bit his lip. "Are you leaving us?"

"What?!"

"I just… It sounds like you're not planning on coming back."

"Don't be stupid, Feliciano, of course I'm coming back. I just said that in case I don't have a choice."

"Do you promise?"

Spain held out his pinky finger to Veneziano. "Pinky promise. I'll be back."

Feliciano nodded. "Okay, I trust you."

Spain smiled at him, collected his gun and headed out, looking around for signs of Romano before slipping away into the trees behind the building. He was glad it was a warm day out, the sun already shining through the trees, casting shadows over his face. Spain wandered through the trees for a while but couldn't manage to find anything that would be edible. He truly hoped they would make it to a town, or even a building that held some food.

* * *

Feliciano and Lovino were packing the bags when Spain walked back in. Romano glanced at him, a sad look on his face, but he didn't say anything to his boyfriend, just continued to shove the blankets back into the large backpack. Feliciano sent a small smile, shoulders shrugging.

"I couldn't find anything," Spain said, kneeling beside Romano, and helping him shove the last blanket into the already too-full bag. "Everything is either dead or inedible."

"That's fine. We can't be too far from a town. Judging by the derelict buildings here, it's near."

"That's a good point. I just wish I knew where we even were, I might be able to judge how far the next town is."

"Unfortunately, there aren't any maps around."

Spain nodded. "Do you want me to hold that?"

"No, it's my turn," Romano snapped, slipping the bag onto his shoulders. "I'm not a kid, I can handle a bag."

"I know you can."

"Then shut up and let me just carry it."

Spain bit his tongue to stop him snapping back. "Are you ready, Feli?"

Feliciano nodded with a smile. "Let's get moving!"

* * *

It was Romano who walked ahead that day, his gun at the ready, shoulders heaving slightly under the weight of the bag, but Spain didn't say anything. He knew if he offered to hold the bag Romano would bite his head off again.

He could understand why Romano was so angry, he got that Romano was just worried about him. F they didn't eat, their energy would be low, and fighting would be harder. Not that they'd had to fight recently. That was the joys of walking down abandoned roads, no Zombies were to be found. They hadn't had any real encounters for days.

Though Spain knew the closer to the next town they got, the more Zombies they'd encounter. Find the people, find the Zombies. Spain was ready though. He had been for a while now. If Zombies meant one thing, it was the possibility of food and other people. Alive people. More people like them, ones who had survived, and were still fighting another day.

* * *

Spain thought for sure it would be another night on the side of the road, the first without a roof over their heads in quite some time, though. It was getting dark and still no sign of a town. Or so he thought. Spain was deep in thought when the first shot rang out. A loud bang in the middle of utter silence. His head shot up. The bag Romano had been holding was on the floor, and Romano was taking aim at several slow-moving figures in the near-distance.

Spain drew his own gun, as did Feliciano. They both made their way to stand beside Romano, guns at the ready. The Zombies moved slowly, but there were so many of them, they came almost in waves. Five at first, then seven behind, another four. One lunged, forcing Romano to dive to the side, his bad hip smashing against the pavement, his loud cry rang in Spain's ear. With a guttural scream, Spain sprinted forwards, pummelling his fists into each Zombie's head. In his rage, he managed to skull them in one punch, something he hadn't been able to do since his pirate days.

Romano remained on the floor but managed to continue shooting at any of them that made it close. Feliciano shot out, hitting a Zombie slap-bang in the middle of the head with each shot. Spain hadn't realised just how good a shot Feliciano really was, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Spain blinked in pain. One second, he'd been punching a Zombie multiple times in the head, the next he was lying on the floor, the world spinning around him. His head throbbed. He faintly heard the cry of Feliciano, before a large mass landed on top of him, a wetness seeping into his shirt.

Feliciano appeared above him. Spain could see his lips moving, but he heard no sound. His ears were ringing. Then there was blackness.

* * *

Spain groaned, eyes opening slowly. He sat up even slower, looking at his surroundings. He was lying on some grass. His shirt had been changed, and he had been tucked in tightly. He spotted Feliciano sitting on a rock in front of him, and Romano sitting beside him. Romano had drifted off against his hand. He cleared his throat, and Feliciano turned to him.

"You're awake. How's your head?"

"Pounding. What happened?"

"You tripped, hit your head pretty hard. I was pretty worried you weren't going to wake up."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If it wasn't for you braining so many of them with your fists, we'd probably be dead." Feliciano chuckled. "Please don't do that again, though."

"I needed to protect Lovino."

"I know. But you could have gotten killed. You know how that would kill Romano too."

"Yeah…" Spain rubbed the back of his neck. "Did you manage to carry me here?"

"No. Romano did. I tried, but he wouldn't let me touch you."

"But his…"

"It's fine. I checked it out, a bit of rest and it'll be okay again. It didn't smash or anything, it'll bruise at worse."

"I'm glad." Spain looked at his boyfriend, face slipping slightly from his hand. "I'm going to put him to bed." Spain stood up, put his hands under Romano's armpits so he could lift him slightly. Just as he lay him down, Romano's eyes fluttered open and his arms wound around Spain's neck, yanking him against him. Romano visibly winced slightly, but just pulled Spain closer when he tried to get off. He pulled Spain's lips against his own. Feliciano took that as his queue to leave. He picked up his gun and a torch he had beside him and headed off down the path.

"You fucking arsehole, Antonio," Lovino said between kisses. "You had me scared to death. Don't ever put yourself so close to them again! You're just lucky I shot that last one before it got you."

"You saved my life."

"Of course I did." He kissed him again. "I wasn't just going to let you die, was I?"

"You might. You were quite annoyed with me today."

"You could cheat on me with the entire world and I still wouldn't let you die."

"As if I could do that." Spain smirked. "Most of the world are probably Zombies at this point, and let me tell you, I'm not getting it on with no Zombie."

Romano laughed, kissing him again. "You're such a dork."

"But you love me anyway."

"I love you because you're a dork."

This time Spain kissed him. "I love you too."

"How's your head?" Romano asked, tucking Spain's long hair behind his ear, Spain lent into the soft touch. "You hit it pretty hard."

"It's painful, but I can deal. How's your hip?"

"It's fine. Healed pretty quickly."

"You can walk alright?"

"I'm a-okay, Toni, I promise."

With one final kiss, Spain gets up from Romano. "Get some sleep."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Always, Lovi."

Spain settled down beside him, back resting against a rock. Romano shifted so his head was in Spain's lap, and Spain's fingers weaved through his hair. Romano fell asleep pretty quickly after that, snoring quietly into the silence.

* * *

The sound of birds in the sky woke Romano from his sleep. Spain was still stroking his hair, looking out into the distance. Feliciano was asleep beside them, curled up on his side.

"Morning, Toni," Romano said, smiling softly up at his boyfriend.

"Mornin', Lovi," he replied, rubbing his thumb over Romano's cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

"I always do when you're my pillow."

"Am I that comfy?"

"All this muscle-" Romano squeezed Antonio's leg. "Is super comfy."

"I'm glad you think so."

Spain's stomach rumbling ruined the moment between them. "You didn't eat again last night, did you?"

"I don't think any of us did."

Romano 'hm'd'. "You're right, we didn't eat yesterday. We should have some breakfast then." He sat up and shook his brother awake. Feliciano whined, rolled over then continued to snore.

"You think if we just waved food under his nose he'd get up?"

"I think it'd need to be pasta for that to work."

"Ah. Well that is a shame. We'll just have to force him awake some other way." Spain shook him this time, but again, Feliciano just whined and rolled.

"I know how we can wake him." Romano was grinning. "It's mean though."

"Sometimes mean is the only way."

Romano chuckled, kneeling down, silently encouraging Spain to follow. "On the count of three."

"What are we doing?"

"You'll see. Okay. One, two." On three, Romano's fingers found Feliciano's sides, as soon as Spain caught on, his fingers moved to Feliciano's other side. Feliciano woke up already laughing, wiggling around on the floor trying his hardest to get away from the fingers tickling his sides.

"Enough, enough!" He panted, finally managing to pry off their fingers. "What are you doing?!"

"You wouldn't wake up," Romano said with a shrug and a frown, still, Spain could make out his faint smile.

Feliciano giggled, sitting up. "You're both so mean."

"Yup," Romano agreed, ruffling Feliciano's hair. "Come on, you put the blankets away, we'll sort out some food."

"Okay!"

* * *

Spirits were high as they made their way forwards. Spain supposes two near deaths is enough to make them aware of how much they all cared for one another. Feliciano was holding the bag today, out of all of them, he seemed to struggle the least, though, Spain does note that there are fewer cans in there than there were before. That's not something he was going to say aloud though, not while everyone was smiling and having a good time.

They hadn't been walking long when Spain heard it. The sound of music. It was a happy tune, one Spain could imagine dancing to. He turned to Feliciano and Lovino, it was clear they could hear it too.

"People!" Feliciano exclaimed. "Does that mean… a town?"

"It could."

"Let's go!"

The three men took off in a sprint, and even when their breaths were almost gone, they continued to run. A building, then two, then three came into sight. They weren't in the best condition, but they certainly weren't derelict, nothing like the crappy buildings they'd been sleeping in.

"It's really a town!" Feliciano's grin was wide, even Lovino was smiling widely. Lovino interlocked his fingers with Spain's, pulling him along.

Soon enough, they could see people, loads of them, dancing in the square. Long dresses on the ladies, suits on the men. It looked almost like a wedding. From what Spain could see, everyone was smiling. For a second it was easy to forget the world outside that image.

Spain didn't blame them when the three were greeted by the music stopping, and guns being held up to them.

"We come in peace?"

"Who are you?" One of the men demanded, staring them down.

"Um, my name's Antonio, this is Lovino and Feliciano."

"Where did you come from?"

"A port back that way." Spain pointed at the entrance they'd come through. "We've been walking a long time."

"You walked here?"

"Yes. We've been searching for the next town."

"Well, you found it. We'll need to do a full check though. Strip."

"Strip?!" Lovino exclaimed, crossing his arms over his body.

"Yes."

Feliciano was already naked, clothes laying in a pile beside him. "Is this enough, sir?"

The man looked the younger Italian up and down. "Yes, I think that will do."

"Lay a hand on my brother and I'll fucking shoot you."

"Lovi, calm down, they're just checking for bites, it's fine." Antonio stripped then, dropping his own clothes, and after a few more seconds of hesitation, Romano did too. The man checked them over, every single inch. Lovino felt dirty by the time they allowed them to put their clothes back on.

"You're clean. Would you like some food?"

"Really?" Feliciano was excited. They could all see the food on the table, cakes, bread, biscuits, things they hadn't eaten in so long.

"Yes. We have plenty. We lost a lot of people here all at once, so we collected all the food and rationed it. We have plenty."

"Thank you, sir!" Veneziano leapt towards the table, Lovino following behind.

"Thank you very much. What's your name?"

"Clive."

"What's happening here, Clive?"

"My daughter just got married, so we made an exception to the rations. A one-day occurrence."

"Oh? That's very lovely, being able to get married in all of what's happening."

"Yes." he looked over his shoulder at a beautiful young woman, who Spain assumed was the daughter. "Her mother would be so proud."

"She is very beautiful."

"She's taken."

"So am I, Clive."

"Is she too beautiful?"

"Oh, yes." Antonio glanced at Romano, who had a small slither of cake in hand. "He's absolutely gorgeous."

"He? Oh, I do apologise I just assumed…"

"You don't need to apologise. Yes, the shorter one of the men I arrived with, that's my Lovi."

"Are you married?"

"I wish."

"Do you want to be?"

"Huh?"

"My daughter's officiator is here, she can do you two. Now is as good a time as any."

"Oh, I don't know… His brother got engaged a while back, but… but his fiancé got bitten. I'm not sure it'd be fair on him."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Clive placed a hand on Antonio's shoulder. "But I'm sure he'll be pleased for you and his brother."

Antonio glanced at the brothers again. "I… I just don't think it'll be fair."

"Why don't you ask him? That's the only real way you'll know if it's okay or not."

From across the square, Lovino caught Antonio's eye and held up a bit of cake. An offering.

"You're right. Thank you, Clive."

Clive clapped him on the back. "Go and have some cake, you look like you could use something sweet."

Antonio jogged over to the brothers, taking the small slice Lovino had held up for him. Clive gave him a thumbs up.

"Hey, Lovi, can I talk to Feliciano for a moment. Alone."

Lovino glared. "Why? What are you going to say to my brother that you can't say to me?"

"You'll find out."

He hesitated, but walked off, going to stand on the sidelines of the dancing people.

"What's wrong, big brother Spain?"

"I want to ask you something. I completely understand if you say no. I mean it, don't feel obliged to say yes, just because you feel it's the nicer thing to do."

"Spit it out, Spain."

"I want to marry Lovino."

"Tell me something I don't know," he replied, laughing.

"No, I mean, now. I want to marry him here."

"What? How?"

"They have an officiator. She can marry us, but I said I don't know. I totally understand if you don't want us to, given… you know."

"Don't be silly, Antonio! Of course you should! Yes! Do it!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Why would think for a second I would say no? You and Lovino are meant to be, you need to get married."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh my God, I'm sure. Marry my brother!"

Antonio practically squealed as he threw his arms around Feliciano. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," he chanted, squeezing Feliciano.

Veneziano giggled against Spain's chest. "You don't need to thank me. Besides, you need to get my brother to say yes first."

"You're right."

"Go then."

Spain let go of Veneziano, then made his way towards Lovino, who had been watching them with a frown the entire time.

"What was that about?" Romano demanded when Spain got in front of him.

"You."

"Me?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why me?"

"Well you see, I was asking Feliciano something."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was asking how he felt about us getting married. Right here, right now."

"And what did he say?"

"He told me it's fine. So, Lovino Vargas-" Antonio knelt to the ground. "I don't have a ring, but, Lovino Vargas will you do me the honour of being my husband?"

"Get up, you damn idiot."

"Not until you answer me!"

"If I say yes will you stand up?"

Antonio grinned wide. "Or no. I can take that too."

"Of course I'll marry you, Toni." Lovino grabbed him by the hand, pulling him to his feet. "I'm surprised it took us this long into the Zombie apocalypse to realise we're not countries anymore."

Antonio kissed him, a long, passionate kiss, as people watched on from the dancefloor, clapping and 'awing' at them.

"Another wedding!" Clive yelled from the centre of the square. "Melissa, you're up for another wedding, oui?"

"Any time, any place," she replied, stepping from the crowd. "Please step forward."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later and Spain and Romano were finally married. They spent the night, partying and eating a little more food than they usually would. For a while, it was easy to forget what was happening outside of town, what was happening all around them.

That night, in a little room, in a neat little hotel, Spain and Romano consummated their marriage, in hugs, kisses, and something a little more. Romano whispered sweet-nothings into Spain's ear, and Spain would return it with words of his own. Happiness seeped through their veins. All was good.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three - Spain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent the entire time writing this listening to Uso to Honto from Your Lie in April (a 10-hour edition in youtube) and I s2g it made writing this so enjoyable, so I can imagine it'll make reading it enjoyable too. Just a heads up.

The 'all is good' mindset only lasted until morning, where they were woken quite rudely with a gun to each of their heads, Feliciano tied up on the floor. The young woman who had been getting married yesterday was one of the gun-people standing over him, the other a young man, who Spain could only assume was her husband.

Feliciano's eyes darted around the room, clearly searching for something, anything, to get him out of his binds. Spain and Romano had yet to say anything, their mouths dry with both fear and annoyance. They hadn't even been married a day and someone was already pulling a gun on them. Typical.

"Get up," the woman ordered, shaking the gun at them.

Spain could see on Romano's face that he desperately wanted to snap at the woman, but he wasn't that stupid.

"In all due respect, we're not… decent," Spain finally answered, as politely as he could.

"I don't really care. Get up. Or I'll shoot." She turned the gun on Feliciano, who snarled under his gag. That got Spain and Romano moving fast. They huddled together, a sheet around their waist. The woman picked their underwear up, throwing it at them. "Put these on, then drop the sheet."

"Why can't we keep the sheet? Or, I don't know, get fully dressed?"

"Because I said so, now do you want me to shoot the twink?"

Without another word, the two pulled their underwear up their legs, then dropped the sheet. "Happy?" Romano snapped, glaring at her and her husband, who had stepped up beside her.

"Yes." She pointed the gun back at Spain and Romano. "Okay, so here's how this is going to go down. You can leave here without a bullet hole in your heads, or with one. What do you choose?"

"Well if that's the offer, I'll choose the no bullet hole, thank you very much." Romano went to take a step forward, but the girl cocked her gun.

"One step further and you'll have a bullet in your head, that's a promise." She scoffed. "My father may have been all right with your kind here, but I'm certainly not. I want you gone."

"Surely there was an easier way of doing this? I'm not really seeing the need for a gun." Romano pointed out, cocking his head to the side. "I mean, there's a Zombie apocalypse happening, but you're worried about a couple of gay guys hanging near for twenty-four hours? Scared your husband will leave you? I've caught him checking out my husband here."

"You're really pushing me."

"I think he really wants to push my Antonio here. Up against a wall."

"Shut up!" The sound of the gun echoed around the room. Romano checked himself for a bullet, as did Spain, but neither had been hit. The girl had pulled the trigger, but not at either of them. A hole had been made in the bed frame behind them. "Next time, it'll be you. Shut the fuck up and listen to me."

"We're listening," Spain said before Romano could open his mouth. "Tell us what you want."

"I want you to leave. All three of you. Immediately."

"Okay, we'll do that. Let us just get dressed, and packed away, then we'll be out of your hair. I promise."

"No. You'll leave your belongings here. We need the food, and the blankets will come in handy too."

"We need that stuff! You don't need the food, your father said you had plenty!"

"Plenty isn't good enough. This town of twenty, need the food more than three scrawny twats do. They're your only options anyway. Leave or don't leave, the choice is yours."

Antonio saw him before Lovino did. With a loud crash, the woman fell to the floor, gun skidding across the room, Antonio picked it up quick as a flash, aiming at the man who had been silent the entire time.

"You're going to let us out, with our stuff."

He shrugged his shoulders, dropping the gun with a quiet thud. "Go ahead, this crazy bitch has no idea what she's talking about. I don't even know how I got caught up in this bullshit. Take your stuff and get out before she wakes up. First though, tie me up."

Lovino scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"Tie me up. Make it look like I didn't just let you go. I'll be on the top of her hit list if she thinks that. Tie me up good." He looked pointedly at Antonio. "You look like you could do a good knot."

"Take your eyes off him, you absolute creep," Lovino snarled, fists clenching at his sides.

"He's not wrong, Lovi, I was a pirate, I know how to tie a knot. Feli, are the ropes you were tied up with ruined?"

"No, I managed to get them untied without breaking them."

"Pass them to me, then."

Feliciano passed Spain the ropes, and with his direction, the man who just a few minutes ago was holding them at gunpoint, was tied up on the floor, hands bound tightly behind his back, and ankles even tighter. They didn't bother thanking the man for letting them go, just grabbed their things, and left as fast as possible, not even stopping for Spain and Romano to get dressed.

* * *

They had been running for a good twenty minutes, only stopping because Spain and Romano's bare feet had started to leave blood as their feet touched the ground. They panted heavily, hands on knees, face between legs to stop themselves from vomiting. Spain wasn't sure how far out of town they had travelled, considering they were still surrounded by buildings, buildings that weren't particularly run-down.

"Perhaps the two of you should get dressed," Feliciano suggested, dropping the bag on the ground, and sitting on top of it. "And put your shoes and socks back on before you do any more damage to the soles of your feet."

"I can't believe we were so stupid," Romano whined once he was dressed. "We trusted them! We let our damn guard down!"

"It's fine, Lovi, we all got out alive."

"Barely. We don't have any more food, either."

"We'll manage."

Feliciano looked between the two. "We just need to cut down what we eat. I'm sure there's another town not far from here. It can't be like last time, I'm sure we won't have to travel long."

"If only we'd asked where we were. Spain, did you recognise anything?"

Spain thought about that for a moment but shook his head. "Nothing stood out. When I would come to France's we usually stayed in his cities, we rarely ventured out into the small towns."

Romano groaned. "This is shit. How much food do we have?"

"A couple of tins I think. Enough to last if we eat only a little at a time."

"Fine. We'll have to deal with that. Shall we continue moving?"

"No," Feliciano cut-in before Spain could speak. "Let's just stay here until tomorrow. Your feet need to heal anyway, and that'll take some time. There's a nice building here, let's just stay in it. I have some cards, let's play a game?"

Spain grinned. "You know what? It would be nice to not have to walk anymore today." He pulled Lovino against his side. "Besides, Lovi, we just got married, it'll be great to just play some games and stuff before any more long journeys."

"What if that crazy bitch comes looking for us?"

"We ran for long enough, I doubt she'll come this far out, fratello. Please, Roma, can we?"

Romano rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine! I can't deny that it would be nice to take some more time off travelling. Let's go in then. It's actually a nice building, so no worries of it collapsing on us."

"Yeah!" Both Spain and Veneziano fist-bumped the air. Feliciano picked up the bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, I have a surprise for you both."

"A surprise?"

"Yup!"

With a slight creek, Spain pushed open the door. For what appeared to be an abandoned building on the outside, it was clean inside. With just a few scuffs of dirt on the white polished flooring, and only a thin layer of dust over the ornaments and desk. It was obvious from the inside that it was a hospital, even though the outside just looked like a plain building. It unnerved Spain a little.

"Are you sure we should stay here?" Lovino asked, clinging to Spain's arm. "It's a hospital! A fucking hospital! I've seen enough Zombie movies to know being in an abandoned hospital is means for disaster!" His cries echoed around the entryway, and Spain felt Romano shiver. "And can we just talk about how the outside looked nothing like a hospital?! What's that about? And it's so clean! Why's it so clean?! Doesn't that mean someone has been here recently?"

"Romano, shush, it's okay. It was probably just someone passing through. If we stick together, we'll be fine." Feliciano squeezed his brother's shoulder. "Let's go into one of the ground floor rooms, it'll be an easy escape if something happens." He led them into one of the closet rooms. It was a shared room, beds lined the walls, the only things even slightly out of place were the curtain rails, some had just been tipped over like someone was leaving in a rush.

Feliciano sat down on one of the beds. "Nothing special, but it'll be better than the floor." He wiggled backwards, patting the bed in front of him for Spain and Romano to sit. "I'll show you the surprise now," he said once Spain and Romano had too settled on the bed. He pulled the bag into his lap, undoing the flap and unzipping it. "You're gonna love this."

"Get on with it!"

"Okay." Out of the bag, Feliciano slowly pulled out his surprise and lay it down in the middle of them. Lovino's eyes widened, and Spain grinned happily. "I snagged it quickly when we were leaving. Thought we deserved some compensation for what they put us through. I feel a little bad though, I know the whole town wasn't in on it, but I couldn't resist."

"You genius!" Romano hollered, wrapping his arm around Feliciano's neck, and giving him a noogie. "I could kiss you!" And he did, a light peck on his brother's cheek. "I'm sorry if I've ever called you useless."

Feliciano giggled. "You'll still call me useless."

"You're probably right." Romano settled back down beside Spain. "We should save this for as long as we can."

"Yeah. Only a little piece at a time, a mere nibble."

Spain licked his lips looking at the cake Feliciano had put in the middle of them. "One slice now won't hurt, will it?"

"Definitely not," Feliciano agreed, he eagerly reached forwards, taking one of the pre-cut pieces of cake, Spain and Romano following suit. "There's some bread too, and some more cans of fruit, which will be a nice break from the beans."

"How did you manage to snag so much stuff?"

"Well, while you were tying up that guy, I went off in a search. I found where they kept their food, and just took some. Don't worry, they still have plenty. And I mean plenty." Feliciano wrapped the rest of the cake back up, before slipping it back into the bag. "If we eat sparingly, we should have enough for at least and week and a half."

"You're a genius," Romano repeated, swallowing his final mouthful of cake. "Let's play cards."

* * *

The three sat and played cards for hours, laughing and having fun. They started with Poker, Feliciano thrashing them with his fantastic poker face, and major skills at the double, triple and even quadruple-buff, and hours later ended with Doubt, which once again, Feliciano thrashed them at. Spain thought for sure he would win at least one round of Doubt but realised quickly that his poker face was utterly awful, and Romano could read him like a book.

After cards, they decided to look around the hospital for something else to do. In one of the second-floor rooms, Romano found a battery-powered radio, with working batteries still inside, and just a single CD. It wasn't a special CD, in fact, it was a rubbish one, but they decided rubbish was better than nothing, and that they would make do.

Not much else came out of their search, just some fresh water bottles, papers and pens. They took it all, shoving it into the bag, then heading back down to their original room, where Romano put the radio on, terrible music playing through the bad speakers.

Feliciano joked about it, Romano whined about it, and Spain just listened to it, until the third playthrough of the same CD. Spain stood up from the bed he had been sitting on, holding his hand out to Romano. "Dance with me?" Romano obliged, letting Spain pull him to his feet. Spain twirled him, held him close, dipped him, and when the song was over, asked Feliciano to dance as well.

Spain slow-danced with each brother to the slow songs and raved with them to the fast ones. They danced until the album ended for the fourth time. Spain slumped down on the bed, chest heaving, Romano and Veneziano falling on either side of him. He took both of their hands, squeezing them once. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

Romano snuggled in closer, pressing a light kiss to Spain's shoulder. "Me either." Another kiss, on his cheek this time. "I'm glad it's you I'm stuck with."

Veneziano chuckled, also snuggling closer to Spain. "Me too, big brother Spain."

Spain squeezed their hands again. "I'm glad it's both of you too. I just wish Germany was here too, and our friends." Spain sighed. "I miss them all. I wonder how many of them are dead…"

Romano sat up, glaring down at him. "Why would you say that?"

"Well… Germany's gone. I can imagine others are too. France? England? China? How are they? What about Prussia? He must have felt something when Germany died, he would know. That alone would kill him. It's not exactly like he had a lot to live for anyway, Germany was his only reason for continuing his fight for life."

"Shut up, Spain." Romano was on his feet. "Everyone is still fighting. No one else is dead."

"Think about it. Other groups are bound to be bigger than us. For all we know they've all starved, or died of dehydration, or been eaten alive."

"Stop it!" Romano slammed his hand against the wall. "Everyone is fine! We'll find them all and everything will be okay."

"We're going to starve." Spain's face was grim, and both Romano and Veneziano could tell this was something Spain had been thinking about or some time. "No, we are. Even if we continue to live for a few more weeks, or even years, eventually the food supply will run out and we'll all die anyway."

Romano spluttered, not really sure what to say to that. It was Feliciano who spoke up. "I think you're wrong. I think everyone could live. It's easy enough to grow food, all we'd have to do is find seeds. I'm certain someone somewhere has seeds and has probably already planted them." He smiled sadly. "I think if we keep living like there will be a tomorrow, everything will work out just fine."

"We were having such a nice evening, Spain, why did you have to ruin it?" Romano asked arms crossed over his chest. "Why do you always ruin it?"

"I'm very sorry I was just saying it out it is!" Spain finally stood up. "I talk about us all making it out alive because I want to believe it. I really do!" He clenched his fists. "God, I want to believe that in a year from now everything will be back to normal, and two years it'll be like none of this ever happened, but that's not the reality of this, Romano!"

"It can be! If no one gives up, if we all keep fighting, that can be the reality! We can have a future."

"A future where over half the population is gone? What about livestock? Are we supposed to just fucking grow them like trees too? Explain that to me, Romano?"

Feliciano looked at the arguing couple, not really sure what to do or say. He wanted to cut in, but he knew they'd both bite his head off. He sighed, looking down at the bag laying on the floor, blankets spilling out where he'd been searching for his diary.

"Don't you dare shout at me! The world would be able to survive without livestock! We would have survived a fucking Zombie apocalypse, not having milk wouldn't kill us!"

Spain scoffed. "You're an idiot, Lovino Vargas. You really think we can survive this? We have just over a week of food between us, God knows when we'll find more. There's only so much time between eating that a human can survive. four and half weeks? We'll be dead. End of story."

Veneziano could feel the tension in the room, his own heart pounding in his chest, a heavy sadness set in. He knew Spain was right, and judging by his face, Romano did too.

"I'm going to bed." Romano turned on his heel. "Don't follow me." He pulled the curtain around one of the beds, and that was that. Spain groaned in frustration, pulling at his hair, then doing the same, leaving just Feliciano. He looked between the two closed curtains, then the bag again. Feliciano knew what to do.

* * *

When Spain woke up he could feel something was off. The air in the room had shifted since he went to sleep, it was heavy, like a weight pushing on his chest. He sat up slowly in bed, listening for movement from behind the curtains. He heard nothing.

His heart pounded in his chest as he slung his legs from the bed, bare feet cold on the flooring. Part of him didn't want to pull back the curtain, for he feared what he may find. Still, with a shaky hand, he pulled back the curtain.

At first glance, nothing was wrong, the bag was still in the room, lumps in the bed beside him implied that Feliciano was sleeping. It wasn't until he turned towards where Romano had stormed off to the night before. The curtain around the bed was ajar. He stepped towards it, calling out Romano's name, no reply. He reached out his hand, taking the curtain lightly between his fingers, hesitant to open it, Spain knew he wouldn't like what he saw.

He was right. He didn't like what he saw. Romano's bed was empty, blankets tossed around the way they always were when Romano had been sleeping. Spain thought for a second that perhaps he had just gone to the toilet. That was the logical answer. Even though they'd meant to stay together, and Veneziano was still sleeping in the bed next to his.

"Feliciano!" Spain shouted. "You need to get up, Lovi's gone!" He moved to Feliciano's bed. "Feli!" No answer came from the blankets. Spain put his hand out, ready to shake him, but his hand felt nothing but blankets. He threw them off the bed. "Feli? Lovi?"

Spain ran from the room, not caring about the stuff he was leaving behind. He ran around the entire hospital, and even the grounds outside, calling them, but no one answered. No one came. Spain went back to the room, tears that he was ignoring streaming down his face. They were gone.

Spain picked up the bag, checking it for their supplies. It was almost all still there, only the last tins of beans had been taken, the fruit tins, cake and bread were still exactly where Feliciano had hidden them when he stole them. They had left him with basically everything. For some reason, this upset Spain more. If he still had pretty much everything, what were the brother's planning survive on?

With both an annoyed sigh and a sad one, Spain lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could still feel the pushing on his chest, the heavy feeling of something wrong. Spain knew there was nothing he could do about it. Romano had left. That's all there was to it. They'd had a fight, and Romano had had enough. It made sense, Spain had ruined the night. They'd been having such a nice night before he had said what he said. He'd hurt Romano, and Romano had left. Spain didn't think the heavy feeling would ever go away, not until he saw Romano again. Alive.

He rolled onto his side and on the table beside Feliciano's bed he noticed it. A scrap of paper, much like had been left behind last time Feliciano went missing. He got up off the bed as quickly as his tired body could let him. It would tell him where, and hopefully why, Romano left. Spain yanked up the paper, heart dropping as his eyes scanned the page.

_Dear Antonio and Lovino,_

_I've decided to leave. I know I promised last time that I wouldn't go again, but I must, for both of your sakes. You have a higher chance of survival if you only have to look out for each other, and food will go further too._

_I'm giving you a chance to be together. I don't care what happens to me. I lost my love, but you two have a chance. You have a chance to live and be happy. And if I die? Well, then at least I get to see Ludwig again._

_Please, now it's just you two, look out for each other._

_Tonio, I beg, don't give up. Keep fighting. I've known you a long time, you're not the type to give up. I know it's tough, we're all struggling, but you need to keep your head up and fight. Look after my brother, I'll never forgive you if something happens to him._

_And Fratello, I beg, don't kill Antonio. In all seriousness, look out for him too. Keep your head up, and when he starts to wind you up, clench your fists and deal with it. You only have each other now, you need to protect your love no matter what._

_I'm sorry it must end like this. I promise to keep fighting too. I won't give up._

_I hope one day we reunite. I hope I can see you both again. Even if it is three years from now. I don't want this to be goodbye. I'll see you when the war ends, I hope._

_I love you both. So much. I couldn't ask for a better brother, or hope for Lovino to have a better husband._

_Be safe and see you soon._

_Lots of love, Feliciano_

There were tear stains on the paper, Spain wasn't sure which belonged to him, and which belonged to the man who wrote this. Spain knew one thing though, Feliciano left on his own. It wasn't a goodbye letter from Romano, but to him.

Spain wiped at the tears, both on his face and the ones that had dripped onto the paper. He didn't really know what to do from there. Feliciano had left on his own, so where had Romano gone? Did he just follow him out? He ran his fingers through his dirty hair, sitting back down on his bed. How long had it even been since they went? Two, three hours? They could have gone so far in that time.

He moved to Romano's bed instead, where he lay down. Romano's faint scent surrounded him, and he closed his eyes, imagining being wrapped up in his arms back at home, everything was normal. This had all been a dream. Spain pinched himself, once, twice, it hurt. He was alone. It wasn't something he was anticipating, he had no idea it would come to this. They'd made a promise. A promise to stick together, but he was alone. They were gone, and he was alone.

* * *

One thing Spain learnt pretty quickly about being alone was he was hyper-aware of himself and his surroundings. He'd tried to fall asleep, but every little noise set him on edge. After an hour of trying and failing to sleep, Spain sat up.

He ignored it for the first few seconds, thinking his mind was playing trick on him, but they were getting closer. Obvious footsteps were shuffling down the corridor, they were slow, the feet clearly dragging along the floor. Spain slipped his worn shoes on, grabbed his gun, and swallowed. His heart hammered in his chest. This would be the first Zombie encounter on his own. He knew if it were lots, he didn't have much of a survival chance, he only had one gun after all and no escape route. He was stuck.

The shuffling stopped outside the closed door and Spain thought his heart was going to give way. A few seconds passed before the handle moved. Spain held his gun up, hands shaking so violently he'd be surprised if he even managed to hit anything. As the door was pushed open, Spain's finger tightened on the trigger.

He pulled, a shrill scream filled the air. He wasn't sure if it was him or not, and his eyes fell on the hole he'd made in the wall, before moving back to the doorway. Feliciano stood there, covered in blood, tear stains on his cheeks and his hand over his heart.

"F-Feliciano?"

Feliciano didn't say anything, he just continued to stare blankly ahead. His eyes were empty, and Spain was sure he wasn't looking at him, but rather through him. The feeling of something being so very wrong was stronger now Feliciano was stood in that doorway, it was almost overwhelming for him.

"Spain," Feliciano finally said, blinking to focus on the man in front of him. "Can you feel it?"

"Feel what?" Spain could feel his stomach drop. "Can I feel what, Feliciano?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" He felt he already knew what Feliciano was going to say. He could feel it. The something that had been wrong, the tight pushing on his chest. He could feel it, but he wanted to hear it. Just to be sure. "What are you sorry for?"

"I didn't want to."

Spain was sure Feliciano hadn't even realised he was crying, his hands made no movement to wipe the tears. "What did you do?"

"I killed him, Spain. I didn't have a choice. I killed Romano."

Spain's stomach flipped, and he turned, bringing up nothing but bile. His body was numb, knees shaky and weak. He fell, knees smashing against the floor. He didn't feel anything. Spain couldn't even cry, nothing would come out.

"I'm sorry," Feliciano repeated. "He was bitten! I didn't know what else to do!" He babbled. "I didn't want you to have to go through what I did with Germany." His voice was thick and he stumbled over his words.

Spain stood up, turning to face him. Feliciano was sure he'd never seen Spain so angry. Veins protruded from his forehead and neck, and his jaw was clenched so tightly Feliciano thought it might break. He stepped closer to Feliciano, who instinctively stepped backwards.

"So you just killed him?" Spain spat, mouth contorting in ways Feliciano had only seen in horror films. "You didn't even think to let me say goodbye?"

"I didn't want to have you be there while he died. I did it for you!"

"How dare you! How dare you think that's your decision to make!" Spain's fist clenched by his side. "I didn't even get to say goodbye! We had an argument last night! The last thing we did was argue." Spain broke down, the tears falling thick and fast. "How dare you take away my right to say goodbye. To tell him one last time I love him." He sobbed, knees giving way on him again. "How dare you."

He repeated it for what felt like hours to Feliciano, who just stood in the doorway, his own tears rendering him speechless. Though he wasn't sure it was the tears or more the fact he didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say to Spain in this situation? Spain was right, he didn't have any right to take away Spain's chance to say goodbye. He did that. He took away Spain's final goodbye.

It was getting dark out when Spain finally stopped sobbing and puking on the floor. "Where is he?" He finally asked, looking up at Feliciano. "Did you just leave his body? What did you do with him?"

"I-I left his body where it was. I panicked, Spain. I didn't know what to do! It happened so fast…"

"Take me to him."

"Are you sure?"

"Take me to him!" He screamed, slamming his fist against the floor. "I want to see him one last time."

Feliciano agreed. While Spain calmed himself down enough to stand, Feliciano packed the rest of the bag away, slinging it over his shoulder. He knew they wouldn't be coming back here, he wasn't sure where they'd go from there, but he knew the hospital wasn't it.

* * *

Spain staggered far behind Feliciano, as far as he could without losing him from sight. They walked for quite some time before Feliciano stopped in his tracks. He was staring ahead, and the feeling that something was off came back hard, stopping Spain in his own tracks. It wasn't until Feliciano started running that Spain started moving again, having to jog just to keep up.

He felt sick. Spain wished he had eaten something, then vomiting wouldn't be so painful. He could barely even tell it was Romano, the only telling sigh being his single curl poking up through the blood-soaked hair. Pieces of his flesh had been bitten into, torn off. In parts, you could see the white of his bone. Blood pooled around him, dyeing the floor crimson. It looked like vultures had got to him, but they both know it wasn't that. They both knew those were human teeth marks.

"You just left him here." Spain's voice was calm, a calm Feliciano knew was fake. A calm Feliciano knew would break, and that scared him. "You just fucking left him here! In the middle of a road, covered in blood?!" Spain's turned to face him, snarling angrily. "You fucking bastard!" He pushed Feliciano, knocking him to the floor, the only thing breaking his fall being the bag on his back. "You killed him then just left his body to be savaged!"

Feliciano could hear the heartbreak in Spain's voice, melted between anger and slight confusion. He dropped his head, mumbling almost silent apologises to him.

Then Spain broke. He knelt over Romano's body, head buried in his chest, not caring about the blood or the smell. He sobbed, screaming 'no' repeatedly, it only being hushed by Romano's chest. Feliciano watched from where he'd landed on the floor. He rubbed his arm, Romano's dried blood flaking off as he did so.

When Spain finally lifted his head, Feliciano opened his mouth to speak, but Spain cut him off. "Did he say anything? What were his last words?"

"You really want to know?"

Spain nodded.

"Please let me say goodbye to Antonio." Feliciano knew telling the truth would start Spain off again, but he couldn't lie. "He begged me to take him back to you. He wanted to tell you he loved you." His mouth twitched. "But I didn't let him. He was running from me when I shot him."

"You what?"

Feliciano stood up. "He was trying to get back to you." He looked down at the floor, so when Spain punched him hard in the face, he was taken off guard, stumbling backwards. He managed to catch himself, straightening up to face Spain again.

"You killed him from behind?"

Feliciano nodded. "I couldn't let you see him like that. I couldn't let you go through what I did with Germany."

"That wasn't your choice, Veneziano! It should have been mine! You couldn't even let me say goodbye. I hate you. I hate you so much." Before Feliciano could say anything else, Spain took off in a sprint.

Feliciano tried to keep up, he yelled and cried for Spain to stop. To just think about what he was doing, but Spain didn't relent. He just ran and ran until he could no longer hear Feliciano's voice. His tears obscured his vision, so he tripped many times, he could feel the rips in his trousers and skin, but he kept going. He wasn't going to stop for anyone. Not now. Feliciano had ruined him. Feliciano was a monster, and Spain could never forgive him. Never.


	25. Epilogue

**xx months later**

Feliciano pushed open the wooden door. It was basically just a shed, adorned with a candle, a single mattress, and some old sheets. Feliciano had found it just after he was robbed, he supposed it's bare furnishings had been done by its previous owner, someone probably lost to the war too.

His stomach gurgled painfully, contracting with the need for food. It had been too long since he'd last eaten, and drinking water was getting scarce too, with only a couple of bottles left on his floor. He took a small sip from one to try and fill his stomach a little, but to no avail, it continued to groan and contract.

It was cold in the shed, dark too, the only light coming from the flickering candle he'd placed next to him on the floor. It made eerie shadows on the wooden walls, Feliciano didn't pay them any notice though. He was used to the eerie shadows of night.

Feliciano pulled out his diary, one he was glad wasn't in the bag when the gang had stolen it. He'd lost everything else. Though, Veneziano didn't care about the food or the warmer sheets. The only thing in that bag he felt sick about losing was the ring. The final thing Ludwig had given him before his death. The last thing tying them together was gone, and there was nothing Feliciano could do about it.

After getting his pen out, Feliciano began to write. His fingers shook with cold, and his body was weak. He coughed, and coughed, then continued writing. It was the only thing keeping him sane, the only thing reminding him that he was still human.

_October, 3rd, 2019_

_You'd think as a country I'd be used to change. Used to life flipping upside down in the blink of an eye. But nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing in all of those years training with you and Japan could have ever prepared me for the outbreak. It happened so fast. One minute everything was fine, the next the world was filled with these lifeless beings. Literally. Human beings that lived purely to kill and eat other living beings._

_It was strange really. You always told me the training was worth the effort, he always said I'd be prepared for anything. Any attack. How wrong he was. I really wish he had been right. I wish his training had prepared me for the horror that is the world right now._

_Big brother Spain told me everything was going to be okay, that everything and everyone was going to be okay. He was wrong too. It seems a lot of people have been wrong about things when being right is really what matters. I wish big brother Spain was right, I wish everything was okay. I wish he was here. I wish someone was here._

_I lied to you last time we spoke. I told you I wasn't scared. I wish I was a better liar._

_Big brother Romano called me a few days ago, I think it was a mistake. There's no way it could have really been him. He didn't talk, but that was okay. It was nice to just pretend I was talking to him, it's been so long. I pretend to talk to you sometimes. When I'm lying in the scratchy sheets, alone and cold, I pretend you're beside me, counting sheep and smiling. It hurts more than it helps, but I can't stop myself. I guess in some sick way it's soothing. It distracts from the physical pain for a while._

_Sleeping is harder these days. The cold keeps me awake, and the few times I do get to sleep the nightmares wake me back up, shivering in the thin sheets due to the thin layer of sweat covering my body. Nights are getting really cold, and my body is getting weaker due to lack of food. I'm so hungry, I could even eat some wurst right now. Ha. Imagine that. I must really be starving._

_I've cried a lot recently. I wish you were here to tell me off for that. I can just imagine you yelling at me to stop being a baby. Although, I'm not sure you would yell at me in this situation. In fact, I think you'd pull me against you and cry along with me, whilst still promising me that we'd get through this as long as we stuck together. And then I'd nod, wipe my eyes and go about my day, all because I trusted you. I'd be able to pretend that I wasn't scared for just a little longer. Wishful thinking's a bitch though because you're not here. I don't really know where you are._

_I think that's all I can write for tonight. I don't know when I'll write again._

_I know it's futile, and maybe a little pathetic, but writing these letters to you makes me feel less alone. Less like I'm by myself in this shithole of a world. I'll try to write again soon. Maybe in some parallel universe, you're reading these notes. These futile attempts to get through to you._

_Oh, and one last thing. Happy birthday. I really wish I could be with you. I tried to make you a cake, but I didn't have any eggs. Or flour. Or sugar. Or really anything. Instead, I drew a cake in some mud, with candles and everything! But the wind blew it away. It was nice whilst it lasted. Oh! I also got you a present, you'll get it as soon as I see you. I love you._

The final letter. The final entry. Though, Feliciano didn't know that as he blew out the candle, the small shed falling into pitch darkness. He still didn't know as he settled down, sleep taking him quickly. The end. The last goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY FUCKING GOD IT'S DONE.
> 
> This has been a long few days bulk-writing the last three chapters but fuck I'm proud of them. I think the last chapter (minus the epilogue) is the best I've ever written.
> 
> I want to thank anyone who has been reading this from the beginning, and those who have only just found it. Really, I want to thank anyone who managed to read it all. This story was completely unplanned (other than Germany and Romano's deaths, they were both planned from the beginning), but other than that, completely winged. Which, when reading it I find it's very obvious in places that it wasn't planned, but I just don't care.
> 
> I'm so proud of this story, and I genuinely love reading it back, and I hope other people do too.
> 
> Seriously, this chapter was a long time coming, and I damn I worked so hard on it.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading, and if anyone has any questions, I'll be happy to answer them. Also, I'd really love some fanart of something in this fic, it would mean the absolute world to me.
> 
> Finishing this up was a little emotional, I won't lie. I'm so happy to have it done, but my God I enjoyed writing the final chapters.


End file.
